Assassin's Creed: The Rising Sun - Part 1: First Light
by Evilgoodguy
Summary: "Once the will is resolved, one's spirit is strengthened. Even a peasant's will is hard to deny, but a samurai of resolute will can sway ten thousand men." -Yoshida Shōin
1. Guards! Guards!

Assassin's Creed: The Rising Sun

Memory 1: "Guards! Guards!"

**March 13, 1852 in Edo (Modern-day Tokyo), Japan**

"You do not need this," the boy muttered to himself as he gingerly cut the mon from the string, "My family needs this."  
>Amongst a crowd of this size, the boy was free to cut away so long as he moved slowly. The boy did not know why a crowd of this size had gathered in Edo square this morning, nor did he care.<br>The man from whom he was stealing was not a rich man, or at least did not bear the appearance of one. He was clearly a dumb man to carry his coin string on his side like he did. "Take us," the money beckoned in its jingly whisper, "and your family will eat tonight."  
>Finally free and without the dumb man's attention, the mon slid from the string and into the boy's hand. A hand seized the boy's arm, and the coins fell to the ground. "Hey! What do you think you're doing, kid?" a man from the crowd yelled. He pushed attention from the dumb man, "Hey! This kid was trying to steal your money!"<br>The dumb man felt his side. Indeed his string was cut and his mon were missing. The crowd was growing wide around them now. The boy knew what was going to happen very soon. The dumb man punched him under the ribs. Indeed, this was going to get messy.  
>The boy kicked the dumb man in the groin. It would have hurt more could the boy afford shoes, but nonetheless his target keeled forward to his knees. The boy kicked him in the face with his bare foot again, forcing the man to fall upon his ass. The boy's attention turned to the loud man who was holding him. He punched the man in the face as many times as he could as hard as he could punch with his free hand. The punching finally made the man let go of the boy's arm.<br>The boy dropped to the ground to collect as much of the money as he could gather before either man would continue the street brawl. He had most of it by the time the dumb man returned to his feet.

The boy stood up quickly, hands full of coins, dirt, and a little blood. The dumb man approached him, but the boy stepped back. They matched step for step until the boy bumped into someone. This someone wrapped his arms around the boy to hold him still. The boy felt something from this new stranger brush against the top of his left buttock. It was either an erect penis or the hilt of a sword. Whichever it was, the boy wanted no part.  
>"Guard," the dumb man yelled, "that child is a thief and a fighter!"<br>"Boy, the penalty for this is to be whipped," the guard said casually, "You should know this."  
>The boy sighed a bit, thankful this new man was a guard and not a random rapist. Still, he did not wish to be flogged again. He looked around for some means of escape.<br>Nothing. . . nothing. . . crowd. . . alley!  
>The boy ducked and slid through the guard's arms and dashed for the alley, pushing crowd's people out of his way. As he ran, he began to slide the dusty coins into his mouth. He would need his fingers to be free.<br>One coin down, he hadn't bothered to count just how many he had stolen.  
>Two coins down, he thought just as we was nearing the alley.<br>Three- the boy had crashed into a stranger at the alley's mouth. One of the coins slid from his mouth to his throat when he hit the ground. The coins in his hands once again spilled to the ground. In a single motion, this new stranger swept up both the boy and his mon. He said something that the boy could not understand, but he sounded like he was nice.  
>He grabbed the boy from behind, making a fist under his ribs. With a few presses he managed to dislodge the coin from the boy's windpipe.<br>"Hey!" a voice cried from the distance. It was the Samurai, "Drop the child! He is under arrest for theft and public disturbance!" The other two men followed shortly behind him.  
>This new, white-clad stranger put the boy down, pushed him into the alley, and said something to the samurai in another language. The samurai ignored this and walked toward the boy, but as he passed the Man in White, he was floored. The boy stepped back, as this man was clearly more dangerous than the others. The Man in White looked up from the fallen guard and to the other two men. His arms outstretched as if to invite them to fight. They did not hesitate to run.<br>The samurai stood to his feet, " Are you trying to get yourself killed?" he said as he drew his sword and poised for attack.  
>The Man in White reached for a small ax hanging from his right waist, but the samurai charged. He calmly stepped to the side as the samurai swung, and knocked him down again with a punch to the face. Now trembling on the ground, the samurai picked up his sword and ran away.<br>The boy had not stood since the fight began. The spectacle from this stranger who wore unusual clothes and spoke in an unusual tongue was difficult for him to grasp. Many times had he received the kindness of strangers, but never as a thief. Usually, he was scorned for such a thing even by passersby.  
>"W-who are you?" the boy muttered. The Man in White looked to him. He was unlike any man the boy had ever seen before. He had a large nose and his eyes were round and blue. His head was mostly covered by a cloth, but the boy could see these features clearly. Something about his skin, too. It didn't look right; it was some kind of pinkish. The Man in White extended his hand to the boy and raised him up.<br>He said something in his language again, but it seemed pleasant. "Domo arigato," the boy bowed.  
>"Arigato" the Man in White said something after that in his own language and laughed.<br>The boy glanced around awkwardly, unsure as to why the Man in White was thanking him. That was when he realized that he was alone in an alley with a laughing stranger; a dangerous stranger at that. These types of situations never ended well.  
>He slowly walked out of the alley as the Man in White watched. Mere moments after, he heard a yell, "There he is! Thief!" The boy ran back to the Man in White followed shortly by a team of five samurai.<br>The Man in White's round eyes widened. The two ran as far as they could, but the alley came to a dead end. The boy swiftly turned around to find the samurai encroaching with their swords drawn. He looked to the Man in White again, but the man had disappeared. The samurai were now in formation, almost shoulder-to-shoulder. There was no escape. The Man in White who had so bravely saved this boy without even knowing him had vanished without a trace when the situation had gotten worse. "Hey!" a voice called from above. The Man in White was still there! He was laying on the rooftop with his arm beckoning for the boy to grab it. The samurai sped their advance. The boy grabbed the man's arm and, pulling together, was rescued from death in the alley.  
>The Man in White signaled for the boy to follow him, which he did. As they ran, the boy couldn't help but to ask the man, "Where are we going?"<br>No response. Judging from his unusual looks and language, the boy figured that the man must be foreign. If that were true, how did he get to Edo? Foreigners were only allowed in Nagasaki port.  
>The man stopped and gave the boy what must have been a signal to stop with him. He glanced behind; the samurai were struggling to climb to the rooftops. He grabbed the boy and jumped into the street. They continued running until they were back in the same square where the boy first pickpocketed the dumb man from before. The Man in White quickly sat the boy to a bench, and seemed to tell him to sit still and wait before he vanished into the crowd.<br>The boy contemplated for a moment just how this man knew what he was doing, and whether or not he did. Surely he would have a difficult time hiding in this crowd, seeing as how he looked so little like anyone else in Edo. The boy waited patiently on the bench, though. This man had to know something, otherwise he could not have gotten as far as he had.  
>Another stranger sat to the boy's right. He was smelly and he was dressed only in his fundoshi. He slouched over and drew in heavy breaths. He must have been working all day. A few minutes passed and a woman sat to the boy's left. Her parasol provided some very nice shade for both her and the boy, but these strangers were otherwise unremarkable.<br>The samurai ran through the square after another minute or so. They appeared not to notice the boy at all. Shortly after they were out of the boy's sight, the Man in White showed himself before the boy with straw dripping from his clothes. He smiled and dropped the money the boy had stolen into his lap. The boy looked up, but the man was not there. He stood up and looked around the square, but could find no trace of the Man in White.  
>The boy walked back home, money in-hand. The whole experience struck him as strange, but he was thankful that he may get to eat tonight.<p>

He could see it now: the abandoned warehouse. Mr. Takahiro was nice enough to allow the boy and his family to stay there for the last few months.  
>The boy stepped through the door. His father, mother, baby brother Hitsu, and Mr. Takahiro were all present. "Dad," he said grinning proudly, "I got some money today. You won't believe what happened, either. It was awesome!"<br>The boy's father tried to smile, but he could not force himself. "Tsume, there's something I need to tell you."  
>The boy furled his brow. There was no way this was good news. Mr. Takahiro continued for him, "A very good deal has come to me. Some foreigners have sailed into Edo harbor, and they would like to use this warehouse to store weapons."<br>Tsume's heart sank. Living in a run-down warehouse may not be the best way to live, but it was much better than sleeping under the stars again. "Where will we go?"  
>Tsume's father put a concerned hand on his son's shoulder. His face tightened for a moment and he bit his lip. "Nowhere, Tsume. We stay here. They'll have to force us out."<br>Mr. Takahiro was shocked, "Wait, you just said that we could work something out."  
>"No. We have been pushed around for too long. That was how we lost our first home. We will not lose this one."<br>"But-"  
>"I will not repeat myself. My family and I are staying here. Tell the foreigners they can bring an army! I will not move!"<br>Tsume had never seen his father act like this before. Sure, he had always been protective of his family, but he was usually one to be moved easily. The boy could sympathize with this anger, though. The old warehouse was the closest thing to a home this family had in over a decade.  
>"I told you, you will not have this place! This is where my family lives!"<br>Tsume's father was not a big man, a trait that was passed to his sons. Seeing him poke and yell at Mr. Takahiro, who was a very. . . robust, was equal parts frightening and funny.  
>Mr. Takahiro threw his arms up and left before long.<p>

Tsume woke with a feeling of dread. He could hear his father yelling again, just like the day before. This time, it was occasionally cut off with words he could not understand. He rolled over, half-hoping that the Man in White from the day before was one of the foreigners. He so badly wanted to meet this man again and properly thank him.  
>To his surprise, some of these men were indeed dressed in white. They were not the same as the man from yesterday, but they were certainly close. One of them, however, wore a black and gold haori with a tight white hakama. These were strange, though. They were unlike any haori or hakama Tsume had seen before; tight with weird patterns and gold lines.<br>They were yelling at his father. His father was yelling back. They grabbed him, but he shook free. He drew a knife and stabbed one of the men. Tsume bolted up. There was no way his father could fight them. He was right; one of the men had run his father through with one of their large curved swords.  
>"Jun!" a shrill voice cried out. It was Tsume's mother. She was running to her husband. Before she could reach him, the man who killed Jun cut her down as well. Within the span of seconds, Tsume's family had been halved.<p>

**September 14, 2012 in Italy**

I jerked myself from the Animus, like it was a nightmare, but thunked my head on the glass visor inches from my eyes. It slid itself out of my way so I could sit up a bit more calmly this time. I looked around the room and felt my hands to make sure that I was awake. Dr. Fletcher and Mandy were in the room, and everything seemed to be about normal.  
>Dr. Fletcher patted down my head with some cool gauze. "Are you okay, Gabriel?"<br>"Yeah, I think. What just happened in there?"  
>"You just shared a very negative experience with your ancestor is all. The memories you experience in the Animus function in the same way a dream would."<br>I took the rag into my own hand. "Yeah, you told me that. I just wasn't expecting it to be. . . like that."  
>Dr. Fletcher smiled a bit, "No one ever does. I suppose we should have started with an earlier memory, but we didn't expect you would be coming across something so intense at his young age."<br>I stood up from the Animus table and felt my arm. Seemed to be in working shape. One, two, three, four, five fingers. "Is it too late to back out of the project? I don't think I like this."  
>Concern crossed the doctor's face, "Why certainly not, but what about your brothers? Surely the Brotherhood could use someone of your talents."<br>"What's that supposed to mean?"  
>"Well, we did some digging in your family tree to see if we could find any Templars of note. It appears that you don't have any. However, Ms Roman says that she has found something interesting."<br>Amanda Roman was the sexy nurse or whatever who ran the computer next to the Animus while I was under. She was kinda hefty, but she looked really good for her size. "The time we're looking at is called the Bakumatsu. It was a time of massive social upheaval and change leading into an era of peace and enlightenment known as the Meiji."  
>"Oh," I was relieved, "that doesn't sound too bad. What does my family have to do with that?"<br>Mandy shrugged. "Well, it appears your ancestor in that time was. . ." she suddenly looked like she was told that she had two weeks to live, "Doctor Fletcher, you'll want to see this."  
>He walked to her and looked at her screen, "What's the- oh. . ."<br>Fletcher immediately pulled his cell phone from his pocket and made a call, "Yes Mrs. England? Yes, I need to speak to Dr Vidic, Dr Nakamura in Lineage, and Dr Gramática in Future Tech. Yes, it's big."


	2. Penny Pincher

Memory 2: "Penny Pincher"

September 15, 2012 in Italy  
>After how abruptly yesterday's animus session had ended, I was a bit reluctant for whatever today had for me. I had gotten so used to playing around with someone else's genetic memories that I didn't really want to see my own again. I wasn't sure what was so important about this Tsume kid, but I didn't really want to find out anymore.<br>Then someone who wasn't Dr Fletcher stepped into my Animus room with an Abstergo Industries coffee mug in hand. He was dressed like Fletcher: lab coat to his knees and most of a suit underneath. His beard was white as snow if the snow were half made of ash. He tried to smile warmly, but it didn't feel warm so much as it felt hot. It was difficult to place whether he felt angry or annoyed or if he just wanted to burn me with some kind of Hellvision. Whatever it was, we were already at a point where nothing about this guy felt like good news.  
>"Good morning Mr Marshall. My name is Dr Vidic, Warren Vidic," he didn't want to shake my hand, but his was out anyway. I put my hand out to shake, but he grabbed and did all of the work himself.<br>"Gabriel Marshall. Pleased to meet you." I wasn't. Nothing about this man didn't make me think he was a dick. Even his name had a dick in it, "Erm, where's Dr Fletcher?"  
>"Dr Fletcher will not be working with you any more. Both he and Ms Roman have been moved to work with other Abstergo agents," Vidic started pacing with his free arm behind his back, "We have big plans for you, Mr Marshall."<br>"Uh, okay. Care to tell me what these plans are?"  
>"Not now, Mr Marshall. Everything will be revealed in due time."<br>My eyebrow raised.  
>"Just get in the Animus," Vidic snapped.<p>

April 25, 1852 in Edo, Japan  
>It had been several weeks since Tsume and Hitsu fled from the warehouse. It had been several days since they had eaten. They did not know what had become of their parents and they were afraid to find out. They had taken to living in the streets again. That much would be fine, but Tsume did not know how to care for a baby and the money he had stolen weeks ago had been used up completely. All he had to work by were his wits and the advice of strangers.<br>Tsume felt his money pouch in the delirious hope that maybe he had missed a coin. Just a few mon were all he needed for baby Hitsu to eat. Nothing.  
>Tsume's heart fell into his fists. He punched the ground. He screamed. No one seemed to notice. He beat the ground again; hoping, praying that something would come of it. Still nothing.<br>Though Tsume had stopped his assault on the dirt, he was not calmed. He stood upright in hopes to find some sort of witness to his scene, unsure of what he would do to someone who had seen his spectacle. He glanced about, but not a soul was there.  
>Tsume tried to think for a moment, but nothing was coming. He wanted to laugh, to cry, to scream, to hurt, to. . . He wasn't sure exactly what he wanted to do. He needed money, and pride was not an object. He felt his pocket again but still felt nothing in it.<br>He did get a different feeling, though. It rose from his stomach in a roar and flooded his mouth with bitterness. He tried to withhold it. Anticipation tightened his face until tears squeezed out. He tried to swallow this disgusting thing, but couldn't hold on any longer. He opened his eyes and saw it; yellow and plegmy in the dirt. There was no food in there.  
>Tsume's jaw trembled for a moment. He could hardly believe what he was seeing. He felt it rise again, but managed to suppress it. He tried to think. It couldn't have been that long since he had eaten. He looked around. Someone had to have money for him, but still no one was around. He sat in the alley and began to sob.<br>Then he heard it.  
>Tap. Tap. Tap.<br>Wooden sandals were walking his way. Tsume wiped his face onto his sleeve.  
>His opportunity had come into sight wearing a lavish kimono. Tsume approached the man with his hands cupped. "Please sir, could you spare some money?"<br>The man smiled. He reached into his robes for the poor boy's gift. The coins jingled hope into Tsume's heart. . . A single mon. . . He then walked away from the boy.  
>Tsume's hands accepted it eagerly, but he knew that the man had more. He heard it. He followed the man. "Excuse me mister, but could I have another? Me and my brother are hungry."<br>Without turning, the man stopped for a moment and slid his hand back into his kimono. Once again, Tsume heard the wonderful chime of money. A coin flipped over the man's shoulder and landed before the boy's bare feet. Once again, Tsume took it with a hunger before he saw that it was another singular mon.  
>His patience was wearing thin. He knew this man had more, but was unwilling to share it. The money he had given so far was not even enough to buy a bowl of soup or an eel, but that man could more than afford it; probably a hundred times over. He needed that money for Hitsu. He needed that money for himself. "Sir, this isn't much. I need more."<br>The man stopped. He no longer wore the kind face Tsume had seen earlier. Instead a scowl had been crossed over it. "I don't think you get it," he told the boy, "I need this money for my own family. Go bother someone else."  
>"No, you don't understand! I have nothing! My brother is sick and dying! Could you please spare me some coins?" Tsume fell to his knees with his hands in the open, "Please, I'm poor, sir. I need the money."<br>The man threw him another mon, "Last one. Now leave me alone."  
>Once again, Tsume snatched the coin. This was enough to feed one of the brothers for maybe a day. "Please sir, this isn't enough."<br>"I told you, kid, that's all you're getting."  
>Tsume dropped to his knees. Surely this selfishly generous stranger would give more with a new kind of begging.<br>The poor boy crawled to the man and grabbed him by the leg. The man tried to shake him loose, but Tsume's grip was tight. They were both growing exasperated of bargaining for charity. "Get off of me!" the man yelled as he punched Tsume in the mouth.  
>With his lips bloody and his strength slipping, Tsume fell. His body was hurt, but his spirit was not deterred. The man was running now, but the boy gave chase.<br>Golden specks began scattering across his now fading vision; detached from everything but impossible to avoid. Weakness filled his limbs. His stomach growled. As he fell into the dirt of the alley, a kind of comfort surrounded his body. He could hear Hitsu crying.  
>His mind fought hard against his body not to fade, but he failed. He was overtaken where he lay by sleep and dreams that the Man in White would come to save him again.<p>

Gentle prodding woke him after what must have been hours. He could taste the blood and bile leaking from the corner of his mouth. "Hitsu!" Tsume jolted from the ground and to his knees. What began as a crawl advanced to a flimsy walk and became a clumsy run as he sought out Hitsu's location.  
>"If you're looking for the baby, he's with me," a woman's voice said from behind Tsume, "I was told you would be around this general area."<br>Tsume turned around to see this woman. In her arms, Hitsu softly slept. Tsume walked closer, with his hand beckoning for the child to return. The woman gently reunited the brothers. With one arm cradling Hitsu, Tsume felt the child's belly. He didn't feel hungry. He didn't even feel restless.  
>Tsume's eyes reverted to the good woman, "Thank you, but we should get going. I don't want to stay ar-" The woman clutched his cheeks so abruptly that a little blood leaked onto his tongue.<br>"Don't worry," she reassured him, "the guards aren't coming, but I want to check the gifted little street urchin I'm supposed to save."  
>Tsume was too confused to struggle as she inspected his face. The boy couldn't help but to examine her in return. He noticed now that her right eye was obscured by a patch. He tried to study her other features like her long hair, slender jawline, and dainty mouth, but his focus kept returning to the patch. All in all, this lady was clearly young and very pretty, even with her eyepatch. Then the boy saw her other eye, and the world seemed to stop. It was inquisitive but strong, as if she had seen a lifetime of-<br>She had yanked his head down to examine his scalp. With his face level to -and inches from- her chest, he saw that her kimono was somewhat open on the right. A brownish patch of skin peeked from a wet spot on her hem. "Excuse me?"  
>Tsume had just noticed that she had let go of his head when she jerked him downward. "I didn't say anything," Tsume said with his eyes locked on to the bit of her nipple he could see.<br>The woman stepped back a bit. Surprise and disappointment were written across her face, "What are you doing?" She looked down and clutched her half-exposed breast.  
>Tsume sunk his head, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to look."<br>She smirked and lightly slapped the boy. He didn't respond. "Not much of one to fight back, are you?" she scowled as she grasped his bicep, "scrawny too."  
>Tsume shook his arm from her hand, careful not to drop Hitsu, "What do you want from me?"<br>"I'm here for a foreigner by the name of Akuraito. Said you had a run-in with his messenger boy a few weeks ago."  
>"Wait, does he wear white?"<br>"Yeah, the messenger wears white."  
>Excitement was growing in Tsume's heart, "He wants to see me?"<br>"He wants to give you a job. Said he can promise a home, a steady income, and a future."  
>Tsume touched Hitsu's cheek and smiled, "Do you hear that? We're finally getting out of here."<br>"Yeah, about the kid," she broke eye contact to face the sky before taking a deep sigh, "We weren't aware that there'd be one involved."  
>Concern tightened Tsume's cradle, "What does that mean?"<br>The woman smiled and ruffled Hitsu's hair, "Don't worry. I'm sure we can work something out."  
>She began walking out of the alley. Tsume couldn't see it before, but now he could see her hair flowing past where her back ended. She had only taken a few paces before turning to Tsume and Hitsu, "Are you coming?"<br>"I... I don't even know you."  
>She bit the side of her lip and rolled her eye, "Kasai Asuka, but you can just call me Asuka. What about you? What's your name?"<br>"Tsume," he responded, "and this is my brother Hitsu."  
>"Alright, Tsume and Hitsu, do you have a surname?"<br>Tsume stared into the corner. His family had always been too poor for something like a surname.  
>Asuka nodded, "I see. Well, if everything goes well, we can get you one. Okay? Now come on. I don't want to keep him waiting."<br>Uncertainty held Tsume where he stood. Asuka bit her lip and made a pouty eye as she gently raised her wet hem, "Maybe. . . I could show you more once Hitsu's not around."  
>Tsume eagerly nodded and followed Asuka out of the alley and into the street of Edo.<p>

Asuka slid open the door of what appeared to be an average middle class house. However, the inside was like nothing Tsume had ever imagined. Seats were placed upon small tables only big enough to hold a single person. The regular table was high enough from the ground that a full-grown man could crawl under it. There were other things so alien that Tsume could not begin to describe them.  
>Asuka glanced around the room and sighed. She yelled something in the same foreign language spoken by the Man in White and the men who killed Tsume's parents. A deep man's voice said something back.<br>A door slid open and the man who emerged was easily a head taller than most men Tsume had seen. He wore short golden hair and what would have been a full beard were his chin not cleanly shaven. His face also had the big nose and wide eyes Tsume had been seeing on foreigners. His obviously alien clothes were black but thankfully closer to those of the Man in White than the barbarians from the warehouse.  
>Tsume couldn't help but to feel overwhelmed and somewhat distrusting of all of this foreignness. He wasn't sure if they were here to help or hurt. If they were anything like the Man in White or what Asuka was promising, then this would probably go well. If they were anything like the men from the warehouse, this would turn ugly very quickly.<br>Tsume took a heavy breath of skepticism and clenched his eyes. He bowed to this Akuraito fellow. The gesture was returned.  
>"I Arkwright, Charlton Arkwright. What your?"<br>Assuming Akuraito just asked for his name, the boy answered, "Tsume."  
>"Sumi. Only Sumi? No family name?<br>Asuka interjected in the alien language. Tsume tried to make sense of it, but could only catch Asuka mention his name.  
>"Sue May?" Akuraito seemed a bit confused.<br>"T-sume," Asuka corrected.  
>"Soo meh?"<br>Asuka's eye rolled before she said something else Tsume couldn't understand. Shortly after she finished, Akuraito resumed speaking to the boy. "My Japanese bad very," he apologized as if Tsume couldn't deduce such a thing on his own, "Mrs Kasai will speaking for me."  
>He muttered something to Asuka. She looked to Tsume and said, "I hear you met my apprentice, Josefu. He said the two of you had something of an adventure together."<br>Tsume blushed, "I wouldn't call it an adventure."  
>The foreigner laughed and muttered again. Once again, Asuka translated, "But he would. He says he sees potential in you."<br>Akuraito motioned to one of his tiny tables with the seat on top. Tsume sat on it, but was confused by the fact that it had a tiny wall. He struggled to sit on his knees in this seat. Akuraito chuckled then demonstrated the proper technique for sitting on this most unusual seat, which involved leaving one's legs to the floor and with one's back to the tiny wall. Tsume adjusted to what he saw, which he found more comfortable than what he was doing.  
>Akuraito muttered again, and Asuka continued, "We want to hire you as a courier. We will give you food, security, and education."<br>Tsume found this offer to be as appealing as it was suspect. This couldn't be everything. "Is this some kind of trick? Or am I dreaming? Am I still in the alley?"  
>Tsume's questions went ignored, "Who child?" Akuraito asked in Japanese with a finger directed toward the sleeping baby.<br>"This is my brother Hitsu," Tsume tightened his hold.  
>Akuraito muttered again and again Asuka spoke for him, "He cannot stay with you during your apprenticeship, should you accept. He will stay with us; by which we mean me. Asuka."<br>"But he'll have somewhere to stay? You'll be good to him?"  
>Asuka put her hand on Tsume's shoulder and nodded. He couldn't help but to feel optimisic about these people in spite -or perhaps because- of the lofty promises being made to him. "What else can I do? Anything is better than being homeless. . . I'll do it."<br>Akuraito smiled. "Excellent," he said in Japanese, "Tomorrow, you call me Sensei, and you working under Joseph direct. Joseph!"  
>"Yes, Sensei?" another door slid open to make way for a young man; also foreign. Despite that, he wore Japanese clothes, albeit not very well. They looked tight and uncomfortable, and his obi was tied to the side instead of the front. Even his kimono was worn like a corpse, with the right over left instead of the correct way. Despite the fact that his face was almost impossible to see last time, Tsume recognized him immediately as the Man in White.<br>He said something in his language to his master before being pointed to Tsume. He said something else, this time clearly directed to Tsume. He approached the now incredulous boy and bowed, but it was not a regular Japanese bow. His hand was over his heart and one of his knees had bent a bit. "My name Joseph Kent. What your?"  
>"Josefu Kento. . ." he was trying to fight back his joyful tears and ignore the fact that Kento is not really a foreign name, "My name is Tsume," he stood and bowed with Hitsu still in his arms.<br>"Sumi? Good meet you."  
>Kento's Japanese was horrible, but Tsume didn't care. His hero had returned after all. In fact, he was so overwhelmed by this entire day that he hadn't noticed Asuka taking his brother from him.<br>"It's probably been a long day for you," she said to him, "You'll be staying here with me until Akuraito and his friends have found a place to stay," she licked her thumb and rubbed the boy's cheek, "but before you settle in, take a bath. You're not staying in my husband's house as long as you smell like vomit and road."


	3. Road Trippin'

**Memory 3: "Road Trippin'"**

June 17, 1852 at a post station east of Nagoya, Japan

"So, what do you think of Nippon?" Tsume asked Joseph in Japanese.

Over the last few months, the two had been learning each other's languages. Joseph was at the point where he could understand Japanese well enough when it was around him.

"It is useful, I'm trying to get used to everything yet. How will anyone see me nervous me," but he still couldn't speak it very well.

Head shaking, Tsume grinned, "Say it in English."

He couldn't be entirely critical of Joseph's Japanese. Tsume was trying to learn English himself. He just wasn't making as much progress as he would like. At this point, it was easier for them to just speak in their native tongues.

"Well, it helps that the girls are pretty and the cities are clean."

Tsume blushed with pride but lowered his head with shame, "I guess. I have never seen any other kind of women."

"Maybe someday you'll get to travel around the world."

"Yeah, that would be great."

"Have you ever been involved with a girl?"

"What do you mean?"

"I thought it was obvious. Have you ever had a girlfriend or something like that?"

"Girl friend?" Tsume was not sure why Joseph was asking if he had been friends with any girls, "I've had some friends like that."

"Oh?"

Tsume took a drink of his tea, "Yeah. Why?"

"What were they like?"

"What are you asking?"

Joseph blew into his tea to cool it. After a quick drink, he realized that it still had not cooled. He let it return to the cup before placing it back on the table. "Have you ever been in love? Have you ever had sex?"

Tsume's head tilted, "Sekusu? {Sex?}"

"Okay," Joseph made a circle with one hand and moved his index finger in and out of it.

Tsume's eyes shifted awkwardly, probably giving away his answer.

"Have you ever even kissed a girl?"

Tsume's head drooped.

"That's a no," Joseph picked up his tea again, "We'll have to fix that," he glanced around the room with a sip, "See that girl?"

He pointed with his left thumb to a girl eating her dinner alone in the corner. Tsume nodded.

"You're going to talk to her. I want you to kiss her tonight," Joseph reached into a pouch on his belt and withdrew a coin worth several mon. "Order us some sake."

"What!"

"Yeah, just a little. It'll give you courage."

Tsume stared at Joseph with an I-know-you're-not-really-going-to-make-me-do-this look, "I think we should just worry about getting Sensei's letters to Nagasaki."

"Okay," he scoffed, "I'll tell the storm to quiet down so Sumi can ride to Nagasaki alone and miss the fun. Do you want me to tell the sun to rise as well?" Joseph slid the coin to his thumb and flipped it towards him, "Just order."

Because he didn't track its flight, the coin thumped Tsume's throat. He tried to catch it as it fell, but it slipped through his fingers and into his kimono.

Tsume dug it out and sighed. His friend was right. They weren't going anywhere until the next morning. "Excuse me!" he called to the waitress, "Um, yes, I would like some sake."

Without a word, she snatched the coin and approached the sushi bar. Tsume looked back to Joseph's air of smugness. "Trust me. You'll be fine," he assured the boy.

With little time lost, the waitress had returned with a hot bottle, two small cups, and a solitary mon. Tsume pocketed the coin and snatched one of the cups. It was hot, but not too hot to handle. With his right fingers lightly grasping the cup to guide it to his lips, he placed his left underneath to secure its path. He drew in a heavy breath to catch the aroma. Aroma would not be the right word to describe it. It wasn't quite a stench, but it was definitely pungent enough to make his nose twitch.

Tsume stopped his breath for a moment before swallowing the cup's contents in their entirety. His teeth wanted to clench, but the heat of the drink had already expelled his tongue.

"How fast do you want courage?" Joseph laughed and sipped his sake, "and why is everything here so damn hot?"

Tsume couldn't resist but to snicker. Before he knew it, though, he felt awash with a warmth. It wasn't the same warmth in his belly he had developed from drinking warm tea and hot sake. It filled his extremities in a way similar to fainting from hunger, but he wasn't hungry.

He quickly filled another cup and drank it. It wasn't quite as hot that time. Now his vision was beginning to feel something else strange. It felt as if his eyeballs were detached from the rest of his head and all of his worries were leaving with any feelings of cold he may have held before.

He tried to fill his cup again, but spilled much of the bottle to do so. Seeing this, Joseph withdrew the bottle from Tsume's side of the table. "No more for you," he told Tsume with disapproval, "You've already had too much too soon. Now go talk to that girl."

Without a word, Tsume nodded and stood and walked to the girl. At least, he would have, but he tripped over the corner of the less-than-knee-high table. Undeterred, he looked around the room to see if anyone had noticed. Some had, but only Joseph and a few people sitting directly around him. He began pushing himself up when he felt a hand on his chest, assisting his return to a standing position.

By the time he had realized that it was the waitress who had helped him, she had already begun dusting off his kimono. Tsume checked the room again to find that the whole room's attention was now centered on him, even the girl in the corner. He looked back at Joseph, who just smiled and nodded.

Tsume tried to sit back down, but Joseph had stopped him. "Don't give up," he handed the waitress the mon he'd received as change for the sake, "You'll be fine, Sumi, just try not to talk about yourself. Okay?"

Tsume shut his eyes and drew a deep breath, "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Just go."

Tsume swallowed his metaphorical pride with his physical throat. His head shook to regain its senses. Most everyone's attention had reverted back to whatever they were doing at their own tables, but the lonely girl was still watching him with her dainty hand trying to cover a massive grin. She had to be lonely. Why else would she be sitting alone at a post station?

He started walking to her. Every step made his chest lighter, but his feet still felt heavy. didn't feel heavy, but walking felt like he was trudging through mud. It wasn't until he had finally reached her table that he noticed that he was not nearly as drunk as he thought he was.

The girl now had her palm still failing to cover the breadth of her smile. Her fingers spread all across her face with a single eye poking through. Tsume leaned onto one knee. "Do you mind if I sit here?" he asked.

Without a word, she nodded him to be seated. He settled onto a cushion directly across from her. A quick observation of her table showed that she only had tea.

Tsume tapped the table, unsure of what to say. Luckily for him, she spoke first, "What's your name?"

"Tsume. Just Tsume. What is yours?"

"Call me Mitusko," she poured herself a cup of tea, "So, Tsume, what brings you here?"

"Me and my friend Josefu are delivering some things to Nagasaki."

"Oh? And what are these things?"

"Some messages and a package."

"Oh, okay," she sipped her tea, "How do you plan to get there?"

Tsume thought for a moment. It was an odd question. "Well, we're riding horses," he told her.

Mitsuko laughed, "Can your horses swim?"

Tsume was confused now. He never needed to know geography beyond he streets of Edo. Everything he knew about Nagasaki began and ended with the fact that it was the only port to allow foreign Japanese trade. "No," his head tilted, "why?"

"Because Nagasaki is on Kyushu."

"Kyushu?"

"You must not be from Nippon. Is that why your friend looks so goofy?"

Tsume had been long accustomed to getting accused of idiocy, but never an alien. He checked behind for Joseph, who was obviously oblivious. Tsume attempted a toothy grin which must have come across as awkward. "I guess that big nose does make him look goofy."

Mitsuko approved of his statement. "So Tsume, where are you from? Chuugoku {China}? Kan-koku {Korea}? You speak very good Nihongo {Japanese} for an alien."

"Chuugoku, definitely." Tsume tried to think. Which of these places would make him more kissable to Mitsuko? Probably China. Even Tsume knew the people were smart there.

"Oh? How is the Qing faring against the rebellion?"

"Uhh... Rebellion?" Tsume found himself wishing he had chosen Korea.

"You don't know?"

"Oh, THAT rebellion. Yeah, we're winning."

"So you stand with the Qing?"

"Oh yes. Definitely. I fucking hate the other guys."

With a chuckle, Mitsuko's teacup was set on the table, "You're not really from Chuugoku. You're from Edo."

Shame dropped Tsume's head. Should he have just been honest from the beginning? Should he have told her that he was some poor kid who was leaving Edo for the first time and could barely read? Would she want to kiss someone like that?

"It's fine," Mitsuko reached across the table and tapped Tsume's nose, "My dad runs this place, so I can spot any accent from anywhere in Nippon. You're just a first-time traveler is all."

Tsume nodded, of course. A smile curled across Mitsuko's face, "So, considering your friend, you must work for Mashuuperi {Matthew Perry}."

"Uh."

"Did I say that right? He's the Amerika {American} who is demanding that all of Nippon's ports be opened for foreign ships. He's not the first to try, but I hear he'll be the first to succeed."

"I've heard of him, but I don't work for him. I work for Akuraito Charuton {Arkwright, Charlton}. Have you heard of him?"

Mitsuko's eyes closed. Her mouth seemed to be saying something, but Tsume couldn't discern what. She leaned back on her arms with her hands on holding the floor. Tsume tried to get a glimpse of her face, but she snapped back upright, "Yes!"

About as quickly as she jumped forward, Tsume fell back; his hand clutching the kimono over his heart. Mitsuko must not have noticed, because she continued, "Yes, I heard about him a few months ago. Some Amerika stopped here on their way to Nagasaki. I thought it was weird, because I didn't remember them coming from Nagasaki."

"Do you think they might be the same people I'm delivering to?"

"Possibly. The lady had red hair, which I've never seen before. Not only that, but one of them was huge and thick and had brown skin. I've never seen anyone like him."

Tsume became incredulous. He knew that foreigners could have brown hair like Joseph or yellow hair like Sensei and his son Garen, but brown skin? Ridiculous. He glanced back at Joseph, who was either telling the waitress that he had a demon problem that was being chased by a homosexual or asking for some more onigiri and sake; probably the latter.

Now equally amused and embarrassed, Tsume faced Mitsuko again. "You should be careful," she told him with her eyes fixed into the cup, "Most natives don't take kindly to foreigners. They haven't been welcome here for a long time, so there's still a lot of hate left. The way Mashuuperi is treating the Tokugawa only makes that worse. As for us, my dad doesn't care who comes in as long as they pay in mon."

Tsume straightened his stance. His mind began traveling back to the day his family died. "I've had some bad experiences with foreigners," his hands balled into fists, "Very bad. It's hard for me to deal with it sometimes."

"What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Then why do you work with them?"

"Because the foreigners I know are not bad. They came to help me and didn't even know me. Without them, I'd still be living in an alley in Edo. I'd be begging for money from strangers just to make sure my brother could eat."

After a silence, Mitsuko stood up. Tsume noticed now that her kimono was long and blue with sakura branches patterned on the cloth. Her father must have been a wealthy man to afford such a thing. As she strolled around the table to his spot, he noticed how the pattern made he branches seem to flow in the wind and how- She sat down next to him and before he had time to think, her arms wrapped around him. He could feel the fluff of her breasts making their own embrace around his arm.

Remembering why Joseph wanted Tsume to speak to her in the first place, he drew a heavy breath, "Mitsuko, could I kiss you?"

June 18, 1852 on a road just west of Nagoya, Japan

"I'm sorry she didn't like me," Tsume couldn't get over the shame of having failed his idol like he had last night, "but could you take off your hood and talk to me?"

Joseph's hood had been on since they left the post station that morning. He didn't wear it often, but when he did, he rarely spoke. Tsume was still unsure of why it seemed to have that effect on him, but it never did the same for Sensei or Sensei's son, Garen.

Tsume pushed his horse closer to Joseph's, "Josefu! Konnichiwa? Hello?"

Still, he did not receive an answer. He pushed closer still. Leaning as far as he could, his arm stretched to reach the white hood that hid Joseph away from the rest of the world. He moved the horse close enough that riders' legs were almost touching.

Finally, the tips of Tsume's fingers managed to grab hold of the cowl. With a single motion, it was flipped from his head. "Gah! Shit!" Joseph cried, "I'm awake!"

With his hand shading his brow, Joseph tried to accommodate his eyes to the influx of light. Tsume tried to stifle his laughter, but the rise in his chest was growing too quickly. As soon as his sight had acclimated, though, Joseph saw the humor himself.

"Alright Sumi," he said as his laughter cooled, "What'd I miss?"

"Nothing really," Tsume said while creating distance between the horses, "I thought you were mad at me because of the girl at the post station."

"Psh. There will be other girls at other stations. You'll get better in time."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Promise?"

"I'm serious. I can see it in you. If you keep trying, someday the girls won't be able to keep their dresses closed."

With that, the boy's mind drifted off to the realm of speculation. There, he would visit Mitsuko again, but with his new-found abilities. He would use them to know exactly what to say to kiss her. They would get a room to themselves. They would be interrupted by Asuka. Intrigued by what she would see, Asuka would join.

Then another thought occurred to him, "Josefu, how was I supposed to know what to say to her?"

"There's no way to know to talk to anyone. What works for one person won't always work for someone else."

Tsume thought on that for a moment. Suddenly, he remembered what his teacher, Nariko-san, had told him. "The gift of knowledge. . ."

"What?"

"Huh?" Tsume was unaware that he was mumbling aloud.

"What did you just say?"

"Oh. Nothing."

"No, you definitely said something and now I want to hear it."

"Don't worry about it. It's not important."

Joseph rode his horse almost into Tsume's, "Okay, now I REALLY need to know."

With a roll of the eyes and a heavy sigh Tsume confessed, "During my class a few days ago, Nariko-san told me that I have a gift. She said it was the gift of knowledge."

Joseph removed the pipe from his jacket pocket and began stuffing something into the little cup. He was obviously getting it ready to smoke. Tsume had grown accustomed to seeing this process. Joseph paused before he dug around his pack for a match, "I'm still listening. Go on."

"She said that I should be able to just know things."

"Still listening," he probably wasn't. His attention was still looking for the matches in his bag.

"Well, she says that I'm the only other person she's ever known to have the gift."

"Who is the first? Ha! Found it!" Joseph struck the match to light his pipe before taking a few puffs.

"She is. She said not even her son Kennosuke has it."

"Yeah, I know Kenoskay. He's a good kid."

"She can be scary. She doesn't have her eyes, but I've seen her read with her hands."

"Yeah, sure she does."

"I'm serious. She can read with her hands."

"Alright. How?"

"I don't know. It's weird. She just touches the words and she knows what they are."

"Huh. That is weird. And she says you can do that too?"

"I think so. She said it would take years of practice and if I can do it now, I would only be able to pick out people from crowds or something."

"That doesn't sound so impressive."

"I mean strangers."

"Yeah, I can do that now. Do you think I might have the gift too?"

"It's difficult to explain, but I understand what she means."

"That must be your gift telling you, because I sure as Hell don't know what you mean."

Suddenly, the two became silent. It wasn't so much awkwardness as their conversation had run dry. Tsume searched around for something to talk about. Personally, he didn't mind the silence. It gave him a chance to notice just how lovely today was.

"It's a pretty day, don't you think?" Joseph seemed to blurt from nowhere.

"Yeah," Tsume smiled, "I'm enjoying it."

Above, the clouds of last night's storm had scattered but not lost their gray tint of rain. Around, the leaves glistened with their post storm wetness. Below, the road was muddy, but Tsume didn't mind.

"Yeah, you'll want to watch out for mud," Joseph said, "It can slow down your horse and leave you open to attack."

"Attack? By who?"

"Bandits, guards, assassins. . ." Joseph counted each one with his fingers.

"Asashin? {Assassin?}"

Joseph paused. Though he was looking to the road ahead, Tsume watched a brief fear flash in his eyes, "Has Sensei told you about them?" Joseph's gaze remained transfixed to the road.

"No," Tsume wasn't really lying. He'd heard Sensei and Asuka both use the word between one another, but he had never confronted them learn its meaning.

"Well," Joseph puffed on his pipe, "I've heard them called many things: murderers, demons, and heroes, usually. Most people don't believe they exist, but I know they're real."

"Have you ever seen one?"

Joseph puffed a laugh. "I see them everyday. You do too, but you'd never know it. A good Assassin can hide in plain sight. You could be staring him in the face, but unless you manage to make him mad, he's just a regular guy. Sometimes, even that won't tell you. For all you know, I could be an Assassin."

Tsume tried to restrain a grin from growing, "Josefu, you couldn't be an Asashin."

"Why not?"

Tsume failed to restrain a grin from growing, "You don't look like a regular guy."

Joseph was quiet for a moment. "Really? I hadn't noticed. I thought something must have been wrong when I saw everyone else was wearing kimonos and looking all Japanese. Thanks for pointing that out."

"Why not wear your native clothes more often?"

"Because then you might think I'm an Assassin."

Tsume became skeptical of Joseph's seriousness. He turned a raised brow to his friend in white, but Joseph's sarcastic glance quickly knocked the brow back down. Tsume tried to resume his attention to the road, but a thought had occurred to him, "Hey, I've been wanting to ask you something."

"I'm listening."

"How does Sensei know Nariko-san and Asuka-gozen? I mean, foreigners have never been allowed further than Nagasaki unless they want to talk to Tokugawa."

"Well, we're all part of the same organization. The way Sensei says it, your laws haven't always been so strict about foreign trade and immigration. In fact, it goes back about 300 years and I honestly don't remember the rest of the story. Sensei knows it, though.

"Truth is, we've been around forever, and we're all over the world."

"But all you do is deliver packages."

"We deliver messages to improve peoples' lives."

"What does that mean?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

"Stop doing that!"

"Stop doing what? What am I doing?"

"Stop keeping secrets! I have been working with you for months, and you still haven't told me anything! Why do you keep making me do these things? Why do I have to learn how to run around the rooftops just to deliver a package? Why do I have to learn how to build a house or raise a pig or ride a horse?" his legs tightened. He wanted to dig his heels into the horse's flanks, but he didn't want to startle it, "Why am I taking these classes? I'm tired of being told that you'll tell me later!"

"I can't tell you, Sumi. There's a lot we have to teach you and Sensei wants you to learn on your own. Now stop asking."

"I'm not asking! I am DEMANDING that you tell me what you really want from me. What do you see in me?"

Silently, Joseph flipped his hood back on. His head lowered, putting him into the same state as when they began their ride. Tsume once again rode closer to remove the curtain around his friend, but Joseph's horse created distance.

Tsume felt his temper slipping, "Dammit, answer me!"

Excepting the occasional pipe puff, Joseph sat motionless.

"Fine," Tsume's eyes rolled in their sockets, "I don't care, but I'm leaving after this delivery is finished."

Joseph sighed,"You could have run, but you didn't."

"What?" Tsume honestly hadn't expected a response.

Joseph plucked the pipe from his teeth, "A thief runs if he gets caught. You didn't. You decided that money was yours and refused to let him take it back. You fought for your right to eat and we need that kind of dedication."

"How did you know I wanted the money for food?"

"You were skinny and almost naked. I know what a poor kid looks like."

"Skinny..."

"Well, you've filled out a lot in two months. You're looking better now and if you keep it up, the girls won't be able to keep themselves off of you."

Tsume pulled up his sleeve to examine his arm. He never stopped to notice, but Joseph was right. All of this manual labor, bathing, and regular eating had changed him a lot in the last two months. He flexed his arm and tried to squeeze the muscle and found it was solid. He split his kimono open to inspect his new body. He felt the firmness of his own chest. As his hand moved down his abdomen, he couldn't help but to be impressed whenever his fingers slid in and out of the ridges between each muscle. What struck him most, though, was how he had gone so long without realizing his transformation.

"Hey Sumi, when you're done fondling yourself, care if we get back to our conversation?"

Tsume quickly adjusted his kimono back to closed.

"You're doing good, Sumi," Joseph reassured him, "If you weren't, you wouldn't still be with us."

He thought on it for a while. Tsume considered trying to reason himself out of it, but working under Sensei and Joseph and Asuka was genuinely the only opportunity he had ever been given. As miraculous as this life was for himself, it would be so much more for his brother. Hitsu would never remember poverty or hunger or. . . his parents. They had been pervading Tsume's mind lately. What had happened to them? Did they receive a proper burial? Were they-

"You know, Sensei and Aska say that you remind them of themselves when they were younger," Joseph interrupted, "Who knows? You may end up like one of them."

Naturally, Tsume was mildly annoyed, but was willing to forgive him on the grounds that Joseph could not hear his thoughts. He would have turned his focus to Joseph had he not had more important matters on the brain. "What do you think?" he asked without any hint of interest.

"Personally, I think you're a lot like my brother Daniel."

"Wait, since when did you have a brother?"

"Since before I was born," Joseph turned and leaned onto his free arm which he propped on the horse's rear hip "He looked after me a lot like you look after Hits. Hell, did you know that Sensei found Daniel in exactly the same way I found you?"

"I've never heard of Danyeru before, so no. I did not know that.

"That's really why you saved me, isn't it? Not because I'm stubborn, but because I remind you of Danyeru."

"Pick your favorite. They're both true."

"Josefu, I have another question."

"Shoot."

"Shuuto?"

"I mean. . . Go ahead and ask," Joseph picked something out of his eye.

"Actually, it's about something like that," Tsume pointed to Joseph's digging, "Do any of the women in your organization have both of their eyes?"

"That's a weird thing to ask."

"Well, Asuka-gozen has that eye patch and Nariko-san is missing both of her eyes. Are all of your women like that?"

"I have a feeling that that only applies to Japan. Virginia came with us and she has both of her eyes."

"Vajinya?"

"Don't talk about her like that. We're going to meet her once we get to Nagasaki."

"Oh. Hey, that reminds me. I heard about a man-"

"Jack?"

"She said he has brown skin."

"Yeah, that's Jack. He's not like any man you've ever seen. In fact, you're about to meet some very different types of characters in Nagasaki."

"Who else?"

"Well," he lifted some letters from his jacket, "We need to deliver these to Virginia Stewart, Jack Freeman, and Daniel Kent. Trust me Sumi, this is going to be a great trip for you."

"Hey, I've been meaning to tell you, my name isn't Sumi. It's Tsume."

"Yeah, Sumi."

"No, Tsume."

"Sumi."

"Tsume."

"Sumi."

"Tsssume. You hiss like a cat."

"Sssumi."

"Uhh... it's like a sneeze."

"Ahh-TSUME!"

"Hai! {Yes!}"

"Hello you too," Joseph laughed, "Now you need to start getting my name right."

"How am I wrong?"

"First of all, Joseph is my name. Kent is my family's name."

"I haven't made that mistake in weeks."

"Whatever. Also, my name is pronounced Jo-Seph Kent. Not Josefu Kento. You're adding an extra vowel to each name."

"Baowa? {Vowel?}"

"Something like that. A, E, I, O, U," he counted each sound with his fingers.

"Ei, I, Ai, O, Yu."

"And sometimes Y."

"Wai."

"Hell, I don't know."

"You don't know much, do you?"

"I know plenty."

"Okay. How are we getting to Nagasaki?"

"By horse, obviously."

"How? Nagasaki is on another island."

"Did I stutter?"

"No?"

"I'm just joking. We'll get a boat at the next-"

September 20, 2012 in Italy

"That's quite enough of that," Dr Vidic said coolly as the simulation ended.

I held my eyes closed as I waited to hear the Animus visor slide open. Once I heard that zwoosh, I immediately sat upright. My sight was still really blurry, but digging my knuckles into the corner of my eyes probably helped. I wish I hadn't tried to clear it up, because the first thing I saw was Vidic looming over me like a watchtower.

"Something wrong, doctor?" I didn't really care that much about why he was standing like that. I just wished he would stop.

"Well, I'm sure you've noticed by now just who your ancestor is."

"Tsume? As far as I can tell, he probably had something to do with the Assassins. I don't see what the big deal about him is, though. He just seems boring."

"Oh, believe me. He was very exciting. He was one of the most important Assassins of the last two centuries. Not to mention a constant pest for the Templars in Japan."

"Then why am I working with him? Shouldn't we be focusing on the simulations everyone else is going through?"

"Your ancestor has some information we need."

"What kind of information?"

"Let's just call it a road map for now."

"Okay. That doesn't tell me why I have to go through all of this boring shit. Why not just find the memory you need and call it a day?"

"We've tried that before and didn't like the results. We need to ease your mind into its own genetic memories before we can access that. If we don't... well, there would be two possible outcomes."

"Like what?"

"On one hand, your mind could reject the Animus, leaving both the memory -and yourself- useless."

That was nice of him to say. Even if the memory was useless, I'm still an able-bodied recruit. Surely Abstergo could just put me to work at something else. Hell, considering just how deep the Templar machine runs, I could do any number of things. This would have to be something really harsh for me to be useless. "And the other?"

I was expecting the doctor to say something. I was wrong. He just smirked and patted my arm.


	4. Ignorance Is Not Bliss

Memory 4: "Ignorance is Not Bliss"

**September 21, 2012 in Italy**

Beepeep beepeep beepeep beepeep

I hammered the alarm with my fist to make it snooze. I was reluctant to sit in on another Animus session. My ancestor's memories had already become a chore, but I didn't want to give up just yet. The Templar Order was counting on me, or at least Vidic was.

Then I noticed something unusual: the lights were still off in my room. Usually, they would automatically come on at the beginning of the shift. However, these shifts never began at 2am. I also couldn't help but to notice that the usually red numbers were whitish-blue, which always meant that it was time for an Animus session.

It was probably just a glitch. I would have tried to reset my alarm like I usually did back home, but this damn thing was set by Abstergo to go off whenever they needed me up. I would need some kind of Internet access to fix it, but that was pretty thoroughly banned from me here. Instead, I rolled over and tried to sleep, ready to hate fighting my alarm for the next four hours.

As expected, it went off nine minutes later. Punch button and back to sleep. Then the light flashed on. The speaker buzzed, "Please report to your Animus chambers."

That was the usual message alright, but it normally told us to get showered and ready before doing anything else. I sat up and brushed the bedhead out of my face.

"Please report to your Animus chambers."

I sort-of ignored that and walked to my bathroom, but the door wouldn't open. It was an electronic sliding door, like the door to a grocery store, so if anything were to go wrong with the thing, it would be stuck. Still, I wasn't going to let some punk of a door stop me from getting a shower. I tried sliding it open with my hand, hoping that the friction from my palm would have some effect, but nothing.

"Gabriel, I'm talking to you."

I snapped around. No one was behind me. I hadn't been worrying too much before, but now I was starting to get a bit creeped out. I began to approach the door to the hallway, hoping to see someone outside. Before I had taken two steps, the door slid open on its own and froze me where I stood.

"Please report to your Animus chambers."

I decided to check it out anyway. Not a soul was outside. This was a dream. It had to be. I was still asleep in my bed. So, the only way to wake up was to go back to bed.

The moment I sat down, my clock went off. I pounded it, but it didn't stop. I hit it again. Still nothing. Fed up, I laid down and rolled over with my pillow jammed around both ears.

The lights switched on.

I jerked up, "Goddammit, cut that shit out!"

The alarm stopped the moment the intercom started again, "Please report to your Animus chambers."

"No! It's not time for that! Leave me alone!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Who is this? Is it Steve from Accounting? It's Steve, isn't it? Cut it out Steve, I need to sleep," Steve probably wasn't even a real person.

"Would you kindly step outside?"

"NO!"

My wall banged, "Hey, shut the fuck up! I'm trying to sleep!"

"Me too! Goddammit!" I yelled at the other Abstergo agent I had just woken.

"Gabriel, it's for the Templars. I have something special for you. No one must know."

"If I do it, will you go away?"

Silence.

I crossed my arms, "Alright. Guess I'm not going anywhere."

Beepeep. Beepeep. Beepeep.

"Fine, I'll do it!" I jumped out of bed and left my room, still in my underwear, "Jeez o fuck," the hallway was drafty.

As I walked the path to my Animus chamber, I whispered to Steve, "So, is security in on this?"

"No one must know."

"Of course." Yeah, definitely a dream. I knew I wouldn't be doing this if I were awake.

"Turn left," Steve whispered, "Don't let them see you."

Normally I would turn right, but I could tell a security guard was on patrol down that hallway. Against my best instincts, I just did what the crazy voice told me to do. At the end of the hallway, I came upon the glass elevator door equipped with a card lock. I would have checked my pockets in case I had brought my card key, but I wasn't even wearing pants. When the door opened on its own, I could swear I felt my stomach try to hug my sphincter. From there, Animus room was visible with all of the idividual chambers arranged like cubicles. I was petrified.

"This isn't funny anymore, Steve. Can I please just go back to bed?" I whispered.

"No," Steve told me.

As I stepped into the elevator, my heart began pounding. This dream didn't feel weird enough to be a dream, but it was too weird to be real. My mind began racing with images of cartoon characters from my childhood. It had been years since I found myself hoping to see one, but right now, I was not in a position to be picky about my savior.

"Am I going crazy? I'm going crazy. This isn't happening. I'm dreaming. I'm asleep."

"Don't worry, Gabriel," Steve failed to reassure me, "You need to see this."

"Oh God."

As the elevator moved downward, I saw the blue light of the Animus machine snap on in my chamber. I gulped. This was too much, but I couldn't forget my Templar brethren. If doing this could benefit them in any way, then I would try not to complain.

The door opened the moment the elevator landed. I was hoping to see the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or Goku or even Bugs Bunny, just to affirm my hopes that I really was dreaming. Instead, I was greeted with a breeze that made my nuts retract into my pelvis. Why they made this place colder than the damned arctic was anyone's guess. I had started wishing that I would have at least put on some socks, because this floor was absolutely not helping.

As I made my path to my Animus chamber, I couldn't resist the impending sense of dread building around the situation. I had no idea who this voice was or what they wanted. I wasn't sure of exactly why I was even doing this and I sure as fuck didn't want to see what Steve planned on showing me. Before I knew it, I was staring down my Animus with its lights already on.

"Would you kindly lie down?" Steve requested in his peacefully apathetic tone which only tensed me up even more.

I swallowed, knowing this was a bad idea. Half of my head was still struggling to convince me that this was a dream. The other half was calculating just how much of a douchebag Steve was being.

"You will wake from this in the real world," Steve heartened, "Vidic doesn't trust you with some of these memories, but you still need to see them."

So, I laid on the Animus and began my midnight session.

**June 21, 1852 in Nagasaki, Japan**

The captain had warned Tsume and Joseph that Nagasaki was not Edo. Tsume had no idea of just what he meant until the morning mist which enveloped both the ship and city had begun to dispel. He could barely discern the silhouettes of the buildings in the distance, but already he could see that the spaces between them were much less tight than the streets of Edo.

Then, a smell struck his nose. It was unfamiliar, but still somewhat familiar. Whatever it was, Tsume found himself hungering for it, but was unsure of exactly what it was or where it came from. From on-board, he could see a wall of townspeople moving to and from places Tsume hoped to soon know. He hoped that one of those places would be the source of this wonderful smell.

"Nice city," Joseph stretched with his hands behind his head, "Hey Tsumi, want to check out the market before we deliver the letters?"

"Hai {Yeah}," Tsume was looking forward to discovering this smell.

"Hello to you too."

Tsume's scowl lit Joseph's smile. "I'm joking!" he ruffled Tsume's hair, "Lighten up, kid."

The crowd was tight. The people of Nagasaki were not like the people he had seen in Edo or in Nagoya. They only carried a few features of normal Japanese people, but they did not carry any features of foreigners like Joseph, Garen, or Sensei. Tsume tried to keep to himself and not lose Joseph among these strangers in this new city.

Tsume was not so successful in either endeavor. He had bumped into a stranger carrying a pot, which had now shattered onto the street, spilling some kind of oil or grease all over everything. The stranger began yelling at Tsume in some kind of language he could not understand. "Sumimasen {Excuse Me}!" Tsume apologized as he scanned the area for Joseph, who was nowhere to be seen.

Soon after dashing into the crowd, Tsume spotted Joseph, who had gravitated toward a blacksmith shop. Tsume approached him, trying to look nonchalant as he observed the weapons. He couldn't help but to notice that the weapons here were decidedly different from anything he had seen before. At the base of the blade, they were narrow, but they expanded toward the tip. Others were thick at the base and tapered to a point.

Tsume pointed to the latter blade, and the shopkeeper handed it to him. Tsume had never held a sword before, but he was no stranger to seeing them in use. He felt the silk around the hilt and the weight of the sword. It was lighter than he had expected. He raised it over his head. He touched the tip to the ground. He held it before his face, gazing into his eyes reflected from the blade. He tried to adjust them to something more valiant or aggressive. He was unsure of just which one. He just wanted to be a warrior.

"Dokokarakitano {Where are you from}?" Joseph asked the shopkeep with surprisingly good Japanese.

The shopkeeper wiggled in place a bit. "Chuugoku {China}," he said without even twitching his emotionless scowl.

Joseph nudged Tsume. "What does that mean?" he asked in English.

Tsume dropped his focus from the sword, "He said that he is from Chuugoku," Tsume answered in English, hoping that the translation would carry over well.

"Where is Chugoku?"

"How should I know?"

The shopkeeper pointed to the counter at a map of a few islands and somewhere else that was much bigger than the islands. Tsume assumed that the islands must be Japan since that would only make sense. The shopkeep's finger circled around the larger landmass as he slowly said, "Chuugoku."

Tsume felt a tug on the handle of the Chuugoku sword. "Why the cost of how much this sword?" Joseph asked the shopkeeper in Japanese.

Shopkeeper turned his whole body to face Joseph, then turned to face Tsume, "What did he say?"

It was now that Tsume could determine the man's accent wasn't Japanese. It was probably from Chuugoku like he and his swords. Tsume cleared his throat, "I think he wants to know how much this sword would cost."

The shopkeeper pointed to the rack that held the sword before he had handed it over. There was some number there and it looked big, but Tsume couldn't read it. He hoped that Joseph could tell, but his puzzled face indicated otherwise. Tsume noticed that the shopkeeper now wore an unsettling yellow-toothed grin.

"Eighteen Ryo." (72000 mon)

The duo exchanged glances of confusion. "Would you mind repeating that?" Tsume asked the sword merchant.

The merchant's grin grew even bigger, "A hundred thousand mon."

Tsume didn't bother making sure that this was true. He returned the sword without a word. The shopkeep leered but turned about to place the sword back into its place on the wall. While his back was turned, Joseph pulled Tsume away.

"Good choice," Joseph confided, "I don't think he could be trusted. What the Hell happened to you? We haven't even been off of the ship for more than a few minutes and you're already covered in. . . whatever that is."

Tsume hadn't noticed, but he had grease all over his hands and hakama, "Yeah, would you mind if we just get some breakfast?"

"When did that even happen?" Joseph obviously wasn't paying attention to Tsume's question.

Tsume would have responded, but was interrupted by a roar from his gut.

"Oh, you're hungry too," Joseph shifted topic, "Let's go get some food."

Tsume was happy to hear that suggestion. He found it funny that he was already hungry even though he hadn't eaten since before they had boarded the ferry yesterday evening. Just a few months ago, waiting days between meals was normal. Now, he had adjusted to eating three meals to a day instead of three days to a meal.

Despite his best efforts to keep from bumping into any strangers again, he collided with someone else. He glanced up to see who it was, afraid that he may have busted another pot. More grease was very low on the list of things that Tsume would like to have right now.

"Watch out there, Tsumi," it was Joseph that Tsume had walked into, "Do you smell that?"

Tsume could smell so many things that his head hurt. Few of them were any good. It was a stark contrast to earlier, when the smell was delicious. Still, Joseph had to lead him to the only food booth that could have passed for a stable by scent alone.

Joseph looked at Tsume, who was trying to express his disdain for this new food he had no intention to discover. Joseph placed a hand on Tsume's shoulder, "Tell you what, lead us to the Dejima Trading Post, and Daniel or Virginia will make us some food. Hopefully Virginia, but probably Daniel."

"Go yo! {Official business!}"

No sooner than Tsume recognized that sound had his heart tangled with his gut. His experiences on the streets of Edo had taught him that samurai intervention was never good news. Surely enough, the crowd parted like a curtain, revealing a single samurai. He had his left hand on the hilt of his sword and his right hand pointing in Tsume's general direction.

"What are you doing here?" the samurai screamed a throaty growl, "Gaikoku hito {Barbarians} are not allowed outside of Dejima!"

Tsume's first instinct was to make a mad dash back into the crowd. There, the samurai would have to stay his blade, lest he harm innocent civilians. However, Tsume's instincts quickly faded with the realization that he had not committed any crimes other than breaking that pot. The samurai must have been talking about Joseph, because Joseph held his palms exposed above his shoulders, "I do not have teacher, sorry. I did not mean harm."

It wasn't apparent at first, but puzzlement was becoming tangible in the air. "You! Boy!" he pointed in Tsume's direction, making the boy's legs move into a running stance, "What is he saying? How does he know our language?"

The world around Tsume separated from time. He tried to muster the kind of courage needed to speak, but his fear withheld his words. He looked to Joseph, who was looking back to Tsume. "Well?" Joseph said in English, "Translate for me."

Tsume's hands moved side to side in rejection of Joseph's request. His mind was telling him to run away, but he was unfamiliar with the layout of Nagasaki and could not guarantee a safe escape, "We are sorry. We came here from Edo to-"

"WHAT?"

Tsume could have sworn that he felt flecks of spit saturate his face, even though the samurai stood across the square. Unfortunately for him, he wouldn't have to speculate much longer as the samurai rapidly approached with his sword now drawn. Joseph's hand pushed Tsume back to clear the way as he stepped toward the samurai, who was now shifting into a combat stance.

"We just need to find the Dejima," Joseph told the samurai in Japanese, "We do not want the trouble,"

Tsume could not help but to notice that Joseph was showing the samurai the back of his hand with the ring finger retracted. The samurai did not seem to notice. Regardless, the point of his sword switched from Joseph and Tsume to an unusually tiny island just off of Nagasaki harbor. It must have been Dejima, because the samurai gave the universal sign for 'come with me' as he began walking toward it.

Once again, the crowd opened up, not to spit out another samurai, rather to make way for the three as they walked to Dejima. Behind the wall of onlookers was the usual genuine apathy of the city folk mixed with the swirling feigned interest of the merchants. Once again, Tsume attempted to retreat into his kimono to shield himself from the kind of desperate criminal he had once be-

"Now go there and don't come back."

Tsume just realized that they now stood before the bridge to Dejima. Across, he could see that it was a different kind of island than what he was accustomed to seeing. Instead of a beach of sand or rocks, he saw the island was propped atop a wall. He could see several beautiful buildings painted blue and white on the island itself, but something about that wall seemed curious.

"You heard the man, Tsumi. Let's go."

Once across the bridge, Tsume couldn't help but to notice that the island had more vegetation than any actual city he had seen. Small bits of farmland added some green between each building. A few sakura trees adorned the edges. Here, there were no shopkeepers begging for him to spend on their goods. Rather, everything was very calm. Tsume already felt it would be safe to claim Dejima as the most beautiful place he had ever seen.

"Hello teacher," Tsume cringed when he heard Joseph's voice using Japanese words again to ask another foreigner, "I am American. How can I find the other Americans here?"

Tsume un-cringed, "That wasn't so bad. You're getting better."

"But just better; not really great. Right?"

Tsume only nodded. He didn't want to hear Joseph's 'Hai=Hello' joke again. "So, where exactly are the Americans?"

"Well, that guy didn't seem to understand what I was saying, so I would assume it's the building with the American flag," he pointed to the red-striped flag with the blue corner.

"Wait, if it was that easy, why did you ask him?"

"Well. . . I felt like practicing my Japanese."

"You didn't think to look up, did you?"

"That's not how I choose to remember it."

"Joey, you've always had a faulty memory," a strange voice came from behind.

Joseph's smugness disappeared, but a smile radiated in its place, "DANIEL!" he embraced the stranger who was apparently not a stranger, but his brother, "Please don't ever call me Joey."

The man held Joseph at arm's length, "Then please learn to take directions like a normal person."

"Come on, Daniel, Joseph Kent is a lot of things, but normal isn't one of them."

"Yeah, you don't have to remind me," Daniel seemed to squeezed those words from a gritted grin.

"Hey, say hello to Tsumi."

Daniel faced Tsume. He apparently hadn't even noticed the boy standing awkwardly on the edge of the conversation. "Holy Hell! What did you do him?" Daniel inquired, drawing attention to the mess on Tsume's robes.

Joseph's shoulders dropped, "I have no idea. The kid gets into trouble on his own. It's like he's some kind of unlucky charm."

"Of all the skills you could have passed on to the kid, you had to choose that one," his attention moved to Tsume, "Hey there. I'm Joseph's big brother, Daniel Kent. How are you?"

Daniel's extended his hand for a reason Tsume couldn't grasp. In response, Tsume bowed from the hip, just like Asuka-gozen had instructed him, "Ohayou gozaimasu {Good morning}. Hajimemashite {Nice to meet you}."

Daniel froze except for his face, which became befuddled, "You should have told me that he doesn't know English."

Joseph laughed, "Tsumi, did you understand what Daniel just said?"

Tsume nodded with a chuckle of his own.

"And you never taught him about shaking hands?" Daniel asked his brother.

"Tsumi, just grab his hand."

Cautiously, Tsume's hand raised to meet Daniel's, unaware that Daniel intended to crush it and shake it up-and-down vigorously. Daniel smiled warmly, but Tsume was not so comfortable yet to make eye contact with him. He simply looked away. That eye contact was something that bothered Tsume about the Americans. They always spoke like they already knew him. That did not sit well in Japanese society; even a lowly once-beggar knew that.

"Hey Daniel," Joseph said, "Are you guys finished with breakfast yet?"

"Finished? I was actually on my way out to grab some food from the Dutch."

"Sounds like it could be fun. Count us in."

Daniel's arms crossed, "Don't you think you should introduce Sumi to Jack and Virginia first?"

"Yeah, I suppose," Joseph frustratedly sighed through his teeth, "Come on Tsumi. Let's go meet the others."

"Where do you think you're going?" Daniel interjected.

"We're going to the American building."

"No, we're not under that flag," Daniel pointed with his thumb to a two-story building across the street from the American building. It was unadorned save for a small emblem with some kind of bird above the dorway.

"Ah, we get our own place? Very nice."

Joseph led Tsume into the building, the inside of which was very familiar. Black pots aligned the walls. The tables were tall and surrounded by chairs. Really, the only Japanese part of this place was the kagizuru {fireplace}. It was still a pot hanging over a square sand pit. Aside from that, the whole place looked like Sensei's cabin. Tsume's shoulders ached from the memory of helping Joseph, Garen, and Sensei build that damned place.

"Tsumi, you can just sit down if you'd like," Joseph had already seated himself.

"As much as I appreciate the offer, do you even have the right to sit in someone else's house without permission?"

"See, I don't know if that's a Japanese thing or if it's just you, but in America, sitting down has never killed anyone and therefore doesn't require permission."

With that knowledge, Tsume seated himself. Shortly afterward, the sound of creaking boards came from the walls. It moved down from the ceiling and across the room until it finished at the foot of the staircase.

"Joseph? How do you do, boy?" That was when Tsume saw his first white woman. Just as Mitsuko had informed him, she did have red hair as well as the big nose and round eyes that Tsume had come to expect from Americans. She wore a plain and puffy dress which was probably normal for American women. Her hair was kept tied behind her head with stray curly locks hanging around her temples. Tsume wanted to get closer and study this woman who embodied so many things that did not exist in Japan, but that would have been rude.

"I'm doing great, actually," Joseph answered.

"Well that's excellent, and who is this strapping young lad. . . and what have you done to him?" she took a greasy part of Tsume's kimono into her hand.

"That's Tsumi. He's Arkwright's second Japanese student, and I didn't do anything. The kid just has a penchant for trouble."

"Picked up from you no doubt."

"Yeah, I've been getting that a lot lately."

"Oh, really?" Virginia faced Tsume, "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Sumi. My name is Happiness Virginia Stewart, but you can call me Virginia."

She released his kimono and bowed, but it was not a regular Japanese bow. Instead she lifted the sides of her dress and seemed to sink into the ground. Tsume couldn't see her feet, so he was unsure of exactly what her legs were doing to make her body move like that.

Tsume stood from the chair and gave her a deep Japanese-style bow in return, "Ohayou gozaimasu {Good morning}. Hajimemashite {Nice to meet you}."

It wasn't until he returned to his stance that her age became apparent to him. She wore her makeup was piled on heavy, probably to cover what must have been many stressful years. It could also have been the reason behind the stray curls. Whatever her age, she still didn't look as old as Sensei.

"So Joseph," she took a seat across the table, "Have you-"

The door burst open as quickly as it was shut and locked.

"Virginia," Joseph said, "If you were going to ask where Daniel went, I found him."

Surely enough, it was Daniel returning from the Dutch and hopefully with something to eat.

Joseph adjusted to drape his arm over the back of his chair, "Please tell me you paid for the food."

"Nope," Daniel's eyes seemed to roll the corner of his mouth into a half-grin, "You know I'm going to use my five finger discount if I have a choice."

"Yeah, I know that. I just wish you wouldn't take so many risks with it."

"Joseph is right," Virginia chimed in, "You could damage our operation if you keep robbing our neighbors."

"Okay, I'm sorry," Daniel responded, "but I did bring us breakfast."

Joseph's hand covered his eyes with dread, "At least tell me you waited until it was cooked before you stole it."

Daniel laughed, "Nope." As his jacket opened to reveal that he did in fact have food, it poured onto the table. Tsume wanted to dig through it, but just stared at it instead. These were all things with which he was tangentially familiar: fish, vegetables, and cherries. He couldn't help but to notice that they were all raw.

Tsume hungrily grasped a cherry which had rolled his way before he checked around the table. Joseph appeared to be trying to wipe the disappointment from his face until it had a firm grasp of his chin.

Virginia interrupted, "Joseph, if you really have a problem with Daniel making breakfast, I'll happily oblige."

"Would you, please? I know you're English and all, but that's still an improvement over Daniel's cooking."

Virginia didn't appear to take that well. Tsume wasn't sure why. All Americans spoke English and she was no exception. What really confused him was why her cooking would be any better or worse than Daniel's or even why Joseph was complaining so much about food in the first place. As far as Tsume cared, breakfast need only be edible to be a success. Yet here Virginia indignantly stood up and stormed back upstairs. Joseph didn't follow; he just looked confused. Daniel's shook his head as he gathered back the things on the table, "Well, I'm definitely making breakfast now."

Was Daniel a bad cook? All of the Americans present acted like that was some sort of a punishment. Joseph drew his hood back over his head as his face was swallowed by his palms. Tsume wasn't sure if it was because Daniel was getting started on breakfast or because Joseph had offended Virginia or perhaps some combination of the two. Tsume really just didn't want to get involved, so he held his silence.

Daniel had gotten the fire started and the food was already thrown into it whole. Tsume already could tell exactly what Joseph was complaining about.

"So Joseph, how long will you be staying in Nagasaki?"

"I doubt we'll be here long. We just need to deliver a few letters and a package."

"Package? Arkwright never said we'd be getting any packages."

"Yeah, I got it especially for you," Joseph stood and approached his brother. Daniel had barely finished turning from the kagizuru {fireplace} before he fell to his knees. It took Tsume a moment to realize that Joseph had punched his brother in the stomach.

"I believe you have something of mine," Joseph demanded with his left palm open and eager to be filled.

Daniel didn't seem mad. He didn't even appear to be hurt. Rather, he was smiling as widely as ever. He straightened his back and reached into his pocket. "I've been waiting for you to mention that," he told the younger brother.

Joseph received a long leather glove, which he fitted onto his right hand. It was long enough to run the length of his entire forearm an- snickt! Amazement widened Tsume's eyes. All Joseph did was flick his hand and a thin blade, just long enough to pass his fingers, jutted from under his wrist.

"You know," Daniel crossed his arms, "I still think it's weird to see that on the right hand."

"Yeah well, I'm left handed and these things never go on the dominant hand," Joseph began to swing his blade. Tsume marveled at how it seemed to peek from -and retract into- the glove with such grace. Joseph appeared to be enjoying it even more.

"I know that. Doesn't make it less weird," Daniel created some distance.

"Come on. You know it gives me an edge in com- Hey, Tsumi. You're still here."

"Where else would I be?" Tsume responded.

Both brothers stared at Tsume like an intruder who had broken in to offer services instead of rob them. Tsume already felt like a stranger enough, but this was a bit beyond that. Still, someone needed to break the awkward chains of the situation.

"Hey Joseph," Daniel was that someone, "You should go upstairs and apologize to Virginia."

Joseph silently nodded in agreement with his brother, but his eyes stayed fixed to Tsume. They showed the same kind of I-just-made-a-mistake fear that Tsume saw on the road from Nagoya when they spoke of assassins. Joseph didn't break eye contact until he began upstairs.

"And get Jack while you're up there," Daniel called to his brother. Joseph never responded. Daniel shifted his focus back to the 'food.' The horrific smell was further emphasizing what everyone had been saying about Daniel's cooking.

Still, the tension was palpable. Tsume sat at his seat as he had since before Virginia appeared. He tried to dig up something to say to break the silence as Daniel had done earlier, but was coming up empty.

"So Sumi," Daniel broke it again, "How long have you been working for Arkwright?"

"Two moons, I met Joseph in the first three moons before," Tsume answered in English.

"Um. Okay. I don't know what that means. Uhh, where are you from?"

"Edo. I am sorry. My English so is horrible."

"That's fine. You'll get better as you go on."

Tsume nodded, but his mind was drifting off into anxiety. How had Hitsu been this last week? Was Asuka-gozen taking good care of him?

"So, how much have they told you?" Daniel asked.

Tsume wasn't exactly sure of what Daniel meant. About America? About this weird-ass organization? About loving women and running rooftops? Tsume responded, "I do not know what you looking for."

"I'm not looking for anything."

That wasn't what Tsume meant, but whatever. He pondered for a moment. He had many questions to ask about these past two months, but Daniel was probably just as talkative as his brother or Sensei regarding the matter.

Tsume tried to think about ways he could get the man to talk. Joseph had already said that Daniel was part of this whole thing. Maybe if he acted as if he knew things, then Daniel would talk. What was the sign Joseph made when the samurai had confronted them earlier? Tsume couldn't quite remember. Still, he had to try something for answers.

"I recently joined the organization. We are what you are doing exactly to Nagasaki?"

"Nice try, kid," Daniel didn't even turn around, "I've been in your position before and you're lucky to know as much as you do."

"What?"

"Look, all I'm going to say is that if Arkwright doesn't think you need to know something, you won't know it. When he gives the word, they'll tell you everything you need to know."

"When?"

"He waited about six months to tell me and that's about the least he's ever done."

"Why so long?"

Daniel returned to the breakfast without answering.

"Danyeru, why so long?"

Still no answer.

"Please tel-"

"No! I was given orders to keep my mouth shut and I will be damned if I say any more!"

Tsume had not expected that kind of a response. He wanted to say something, but instead shrunk into his seat. He didn't want to risk losing his chance to learn as soon as possible. Asking more could possibly even set it back further and that was the last thing Tsume wanted to do.

"If you promise to stop asking, I promise not to tell Joseph, okay?" Daniel said, still working on the food.

"Hai."

"Erm, what?"

"I mean yes," Tsume was embarrassed that he had forgotten Daniel's inability to understand Japanese. He had become too adjusted to Joseph, Sensei, and Garen, who could almost understand Tsume's native language.

Another knocking came down and across the wall. Tsume fully expected harsh words from Joseph, but was shocked to see the other American that Mitsuko had mentioned. His skin was as dark as the dirt, but that was not the only thing which stood out about him. He was taller than any man Tsume had ever seen. His shirt was big and loose, but Tsume could still identify that this man was as wide as a bull. He must have been Jack.

"Master Daniel, Master Joseph said that he will be down shortly," he said in some English that Tsume could only barely follow.

"Jack, please stop calling me Master. You're not a slave any more."

Sureibu {Slave}? Tsume was puzzled by this new word.

"Hey Sumi, I'm sure Joseph has told you about Jack Freeman."

When the tree of a man smiled, Tsume could not help but to be overwhelmed by the brightness of his teeth against the darkness of his skin. Tsume hadn't even noticed that his hand was extended until Jack looked to Daniel and Daniel said, "He just learned how to shake today."

Tsume immediately grasped Jack's massive hand. It was rough like unpolished wood. Unlike Daniel, though, Jack did not even try to break Tsume's hand. The ruggedness of the dark man's pale palm made obvious that he could break a boy without even thinking about it. "Jakku Furiiman," Tsume whispered in amazement.

**June 28, 1852 traveling by ship from Nagasaki to Edo**

"Wako {Pirates}!"

At those words, nearly the entire ship went silent. Some continued about their business as if the man who yelled it were pulling some prank, but the rest were not so skeptical. Tsume ran to the bow of the ship where he saw them on the horizon. They approached from the east, with the moon behind their sails. From where he stood, they looked exactly like any other ship, but it was admittedly suspicious that they would continue to come closer.

"Tsumi," Joseph said sternly, "I want you to go below deck. This could get messy."

Remembering what Daniel told him, Tsume complied. He wanted to keep his curiosity down if he wanted to learn sooner rather than later this great secret his employers were withholding. Still, out of the hundred people on this ship, only seven stepped forward to fight: Joseph, five samurai, and one very brave common man.

Arrows flew into the deck. One samurai was struck down by the barrage before the wako had even boarded the ship. Before the blood had spread very far, Tsume shut the door and retreated into the crowd. Memories of his parents' deaths pushed him further back until he was against the wall.

The following minutes passed like hours. Was Joseph okay? The first Samurai had gone down before the fight had begun. How could he be sure that a possible warrior like Joseph could be safe against ruthless pirates? Joseph had beaten samurai in combat before, but he ran when he saw four coming his way. That was in the massive, sprawling city of Edo. This was a simple merchant ship. At best, he could climb a mast or flee into the-

The door to the cabin crashed open. Tsume tried parting people to see who it was and if the commotion was over yet. They stood deathly silent. Tsume jumped to get a better view. He suddenly wished that he hadn't. A diseased-looking wako had a man by the kimono and held a dagger in the air. Shortly after Tsume landed, the front of the crowd screamed. The rest of the room began to scramble out of the cabin and into any direction.

Tsume knew he wanted to go outside. If that pirate was able to get past the fighters, then something must be gravely wrong. It was that moment when Tsume realized that he both needed and wanted to protect those who protected him. He had to get to Joseph, but first he would have to find the samurai who died. No one would be using those swords.

Outside, the deck was slippery with blood. Three samurai had already fallen, but not without bringing several more pirates with them. Tsume's heart sped when Joseph was nowhere to be seen. Still, even with their best warrior missing, these people needed defense. Tsume got close to a fallen samurai, "Thank you for this," he said to the corpse as he drew one of the swords, "I will need it."

Tsume gulped. He had only held a sword once before in his life and that was only to examine it. This time, he would need to use it to fight. A pirate drew near, so Tsume assumed an approximation of the stances he had seen from samurai in combat.

There! Across the ship, a different pirate was harassing one of the merchants. Tsume ran screaming towards the two, both hands clutching to the sword over his shoulder. Unfortunately for him, the wako heard this over the spectacle of the battle. Tsume's eyes clenched shut as he swung the sword. It definitely hit something. He was afraid to look in case he had killed a man for the first time, but now was not the time to cry over pirates.

His eyes peeked to see that he had struck the ship's rail. A lump grew in his throat as quickly as it was swallowed. At least, he would have swallowed it if the wako had not grabbed him by the throat. From this distance, Tsume could now see the pirate's pockmarked and sickly face. "Ha!" the pirate laughed, flecking spit through the gaps where he should have had teeth, "The boy thinks he's a fighter!"

Tsume tried to back out of of the grip, but the pirate advanced with malicious intent clear in his eyes. Then the cold steel of the sword raised to the boy's cheek. He tried to maintain his composure, tried to look menacing to his enemy, but he could only try so hard. His opponent was covered in such scars and filth that he was naturally menacing to behold. Tsume couldn't compete with that; least of all unarmed.

Tsume was pushed against the railing with the tip the sword digging into the cartilage of his ear. He held to the rail, but he could feel himself losing balance. Right now, the back alleys of Edo were looking wonderfully inviting. Regardless of what would happen, Tsume would join his parents in the afterlife. He could almost hear them now.

"Tsumi!"

Wait, those weren't his pare- The sword gashed Tsume's face and nicked one of his teeth. Joseph had punched the pirate in the neck which somehow spewed blood all over the boy. Suddenly, Tsume began to feel a lightness as his sight turned black. He could see the waves of the ocean sparkle under the light of he full moon. They grew closer as he lost his equilibrium.

A tightness grasped Tsume's ankle, holding him above the ocean. "Tsumi!" Joseph called out, "Hold still, I've got you!"

Tsume had no intention to move, but as he could feel the grip slipping down his ankle he realized how close he was to seeing his parents again. He began to kick against what must have been Joseph's hand holding him from the water. His struggle was rewarded when it finally allowed him into the sea.

The water burned at Tsume's cheek and released blood freely into the water. He didn't struggle. He didn't swim. He didn't even try to breathe. He only watched the fish dance beneath him. Some were the biggest fish he had ever seen, tearing into some of the other bodies that had fallen into the water.

**September 21, 2012 in Italy**

I stirred from the dreamworld that was the Animus. I had no more interest in seeing the rest of that memory, but the dark figure standing over me seemed to indicate otherwise. I paused, trying to make out some kind of a face for Steve from Accounting. Before I could get the first thing, he jammed a needle into my arm. I tried to struggle,but I was apparently bound to the Animus. I still tried to discern a face, but my sight was going black just like my ancestor.

**June 28, 1852 traveling by ship from Nagasaki to Edo**

Blood. Blood and ocean. Tsume could taste blood and ocean. . . and cloth. Cloth and air. Air? Tsume pried his eyes open, but still could barely see. He tried to discern the faint white figure which hovered above him. It had black where its hair would be. It was probably Joseph.

As Tsume took in his breaths, his vision cleared. The image of Joseph was becoming very feminine. Soon enough the figure that came into focus was not Joseph at all, but rather a beautiful young miko. She held a white cloth to Tsume, "Open up. This should help the bleeding."

"Open what?" as he said that, Tsume realized that he had something in the side of his mouth. He was honestly suspicious, but something in the way he said that didn't sound right to him. Furthermore, he felt something tugging at his chin. He brushed it with his hand and noticed a moist groove. His finger traced it until it- His finger felt the bloody cloth in his mouth through a hole in his cheek.

Tsume paused. He wanted to be certain that was what happened. He pushed his finger back into the opening. He cringed as the wound tore larger and his hand contacted the open flesh. Jaw quivering, he inspected the blood on his hand.

"Please don't do that," the miko said calmly, "You don't want to open the wound before we sutichu it. Besides, you're due for a new cloth."

"Schtisch?"

"Hai {Yes}. The Gaikoku-hito {Foreigner} said he would show me how to sew a wound shut."

Tsume was familiar with stitching. He had been cut before under Sensei's watch. He was more concerned about having it done by someone who had no experience with a needle before. Then again, if Joseph was going to guide her hands, this should go well enough.

That was when Tsume scoured the room from where he lay. He was back in the cabin of the ship. Around him, all manners of wounded were being attended by anyone with a passing familiarity to medicine. Joseph was across the room, dripping wet and walking towards Tsume now. "Tsumi!" he called as he approached, "Good to see you awake. Don't worry about that cut. We'll get it fixed in no time."

Tsume locked his eyes onto Joseph's. He saw a kind of uneasiness, like he had a massive burden to unload. Perhaps he was finally going to reveal that secret. Whatever it was, Tsume-

"Kento-san has been most gracious in helping us," the miko interrupted, "We normally wouldn't want a foreigner here, but this one has saved us in so many ways. He fought the wako harder than any of the samurai. I think he may have even killed a few dozen of them."

"Assassin," Tsume muttered.

Joseph nodded, "We have a lot to talk about, kid. As soon as we get to Edo, I'll tell you everything, but first we need to fix your face."


	5. Playtime Is Over

Chapter 5: "Playtime is Over"

**September 21, 2012 at the Abstergo facility in Italy**

I woke up at 7am, like usual. My head was splitting and my eyes didn't want to open. I didn't jump out of bed like usual. I just sat up, taking in my surroundings. I was in my room instead of my animus chamber. Last night was looking like one Hell of a dream. . . probably. It felt so real that I wouldn't bet money against it. Whatever it was, I still needed to get to work today.

**December 28, 1854 in Edo, Japan**

The twelve recruits stood in formation at the training ground in the woods behind the Kasai household. Tsume, Kennosuke, Azusa, Igarashi, Motoko, Takanori, Maruyama, Fumito, Eiji, Kyuzo, Shimoda, and Tokiro all waited in the cold for their instructions. They had been told that today would be a very special day in all of their lives.

"We are going to play a game," Sensei said to his students. His Japanese had greatly improved in the last two years, "The rules are simple. You will each be given three flags. Then, you will wear your flags in your obi {belts}. Then, you will spread out into the city."

Joseph handed out the flags. When Tsume's turn had come, he counted that he had been given a trio of dull green flags. A quick glance about indicated that every recruit was receiving their flags sorted by color. "You'll do great," Joseph whispered.

"Fasten the flags to the front of your obi. You are to take each other's flags. Each flag you claim is a 'kill.' Each flag you lose is a 'death.' Use your training weapons to score your kills," Sensei continued, "If you lose three flags, then you are out of the game. When you are out, I want you to climb the tallest tower in Edo. I will be waiting for you there."

Asuka, who had become scary ever since she had gotten pregnant, handed out the training weapons. Each recruit received a sword, dagger, and hidden blade, all made of the usual bamboo rather than metal. Tsume was used to these by now, since Asuka had been training everyone with them nearly every day for the last two years.

"You may not take more than one flag at a time. Joseph, Garen, Asuka, and I will be watching you all to be sure that you do not violate that. How you get each flag is up to you," Sensei turned his back to his recruits, "Where other men blindly follow the truth, remember..."

"Nothing is true," they sounded off in unison.

"Where other men are limited by morality or law, remember..."

"Everything is permitted."

"What was that?"

"Everything Is Permitted!"

"I can't hear you!"

"EVERYTHING IS PERMITTED!"

Sensei's face shifted to a sly grin, "Remember that. Now scatter! The game begins at noon. You have one hour."

Tsume immediately traveled to Edo's poor district. In a way, he found it funny how the city seemed to have waited still for him. Granted, Edo was a city that had barely changed in the last few centuries, so two years would have had next to no impact at all. The sameness was a stark contrast to the changes Nariko-san had informed him of ever since his training had begun. His familiarity with the Edo's unchanged back alleys coupled with his experience as a thief was sure to give him a huge advantage.

He approached a tempura stand. If he wanted to win this, he didn't want to be hungry. Hunger would make him aggressive enough to succeed, but it wouldn't allow him to think enough to succeed. Even if he wasn't hungry at the moment, this game had a dozen recruits spread across a massive city. It could end anywhere from a few hours from now to a few days from today.

With his thumb, Tsume flipped a mon onto the counter, "Vegetables, please. No sauce."

The attendant happily accepted the payment and began work on Tsume's lunch. It was around that moment when Tsume felt a brush on his shoulder. He turned around quickly with his hand readied on the hilt of his bokken {training sword}. His stance relaxed when the white hood evidenced it was an actual Assassin instead of a pickpocket. Tsume could tell from the hair on the jaw poking through the hood that this one was Sensei's son, Garen.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here," Garen told Tsume, "This is my favorite tempura stand in town."

"Really?"

"No. I've actually never even been to this part of Edo. I just followed you," Garen glanced over his shoulders before reducing his tone to a whisper, "Safe to assume that you're from around here?"

Tsume nodded cautiously, keeping his eyes wary over Garen's shoulder.

"That's probably not a good idea. You may be familiar with the place, but that just means you won't be watching your back."

Tsume thought for a moment. Garen had a point. Tsume couldn't discount the fact that he had been completely taken by surprise in his old stomping ground. Then again, this was Garen. He was a trained Assassin whose only consistency was his inconsistency. He could be more lighthearted than Joseph, then picking a fight with Asuka over an inoffensive observation, then running off to the nearest brothel; all within the span of an hour. As oddly specific as that was, it was something that Tsume had seen Garen do once before.

"You should watch out boy," Garen said dryly, "I won't be surprised if that scar betrays you today. In fact, I'd be more surprised if today would be the last time it causes you trouble."

Tsume felt the ridge on his left cheek. His memory flashed back to the day he first learned the full story of the Assassin Order. The way Joseph spoke of the Assassins made them out to be the grand protectors of humanity's freedom from the dreaded Templars. Tsume was naturally skeptical at first that a person's lot in life could be determined by their actions rather than the conditions of their birth, but the lives of the Assassins seemed to argue otherwise. Then they had begun preaching that a person's impact on the world was determined by the actions of one's life rather than the circumstances of one's death. That much was not news to Tsume, but to recruits like Kennosuke who had been trained as samurai, it meant all of the difference in the world. They even kept more honorable social behavior than the samurai, despite holding a combat philosophy which was anything but honorable. A full two and a half years later, Tsume still marveled at how the ways of the Assassins had changed the way in which he saw everything. For him, this scar was a reminder of how he would never be that naive homeless child again.

Tsume smiled with disbelief, "How will it betray me?"

"How many people do you know keep a big target on the side of their face?" Garen's thumb brushed the yellow sideburns which ran from his ear to the corner of his mouth in roughly the same length as Tsume's scar, "After today, I would recommend you try to grow a beard. It could help to hide that thing."

Tsume's palm engulfed his mouth and nose as his fingers rubbed his face in search of some trace of stubble. "I don't think I could grow a beard. I tried that a year ago, but nothing good came of it. It just grows a bit under my chin and a little on my jaws."

"Ah. Well, that's a damned shame. In America, it's a sign of manliness, but not everyone likes a man to keep one. That's a damned shame too. Might as well chop of his... how do you say... chinpo," it wasn't until Garen used some Japanese that Tsume realized they had been conversing in English all along.

"But you don't have a beard."

Garen rubbed his chin which was the only bald spot on his face. He had always kept that area of his face well-shaven. "Facial hair is facial hair," he said with a sense of smugness, "and a man isn't a man without it."

"Good to know I'm not a man."

"Well, you haven't had your genpuku yet, right? Isn't that why you're still just Tsume?"

"I don't think that will help me grow a beard."

"It won't. By the way, have you decided on what you'll change your name to?"

"Not yet. I was thinking about what Sensei said about us being birds."

"The few who know of us have compared us to wolves, because we stay hidden until the time comes to ambush our prey and begin the chase. Instead, we are raptors. We watch from above where none think to look. Those who do look only see our shadows hidden amongst the birds. There is no chase. There is only the moment when death takes his claim."

"Yes. Exactly. How did you do that?"

"He's my papa."

Honestly, Tsume was not sure if Garen even knew what he meant. It was a difficult thing to describe. He wanted to know how Garen could be so vastly different from his father, but still always manage to sound exactly like the man. Tsume considered clarifying, but decided against it. Making Garen seem the fool was never a smart idea for anyone other than Sensei.

"Just keep your eyes open and try to pick your name soon," Garen said as he started toward the street.

Tsume pondered on what the purpose of that whole thing was. Then, from the corner of his eye, spotted one of his own flags hanging on the corner of the stand.

"Tricky bastard," Tsume muttered when he returned the flag to the front of his obi.

As he waited for his tempura to finish, Tsume began to think about his genpuku. He was one of Arkwright's only students not to have had one yet. The others were mostly either from samurai families and had their genpuku already, were from Assassin families and had a name already chosen, or were girls and therefore didn't change their names. Since Tsume had neither background, he was still just Tsume.

His mind began to speculate on the name he would choose. Only samurai, nobles, and their descendants could bear two names. Then again those from Assassin families also carried two names. The boy's pondering took an exciting turn with the prospect of finally standing before -rather than cowering from- samurai. They would demand his identity, and he would shout his new double name, the mere mention of which would force the samurai to step down and allow him to kill the Templar without resistance. The people would shout his name in the streets like the hero he was and the Templars would rightfully whisper his name in terror. He would be the fearsome... Hayabusa {Falcon}? Washi {Eagle}? Taka {Hawk}? Probably something along those lines.

Tsume needed more time to think. He hadn't chosen his surname nor his new given name. Would he even get to choose a surname? Most boys didn't get such a privilege, and they were the sons of merchants and smiths. Tsume was the orphaned son of a former fisherman. What about Hitsu? Would he become an Assassin as well? Would he get to choose his own name or would he be stuck with the name Tsume chose? Tsume would need to be more careful with the na-

"Here you go," the tempura cook said with a smile, "Vegetable tempura."

"Arigato," Tsume gave the man a slight bow as he picked up a piece of tempura with his chopsticks. It was still hot. Normally, it would be too hot, but Tsume found tempura to be great for winter days like today. Wait, no. Tempura is fried and therefore cools quickly. Soup or noodles would have been a smarter choice today. Then again, the stand's owner didn't appear to be getting any business, so at least he got to help the man.

Tsume bit the first piece of tempura whole. It burned his palate and tongue a bit on the way down, but he was willing to forgive that. As he exhaled, he couldn't be sure how much was steam from the tempura and how much was his breath in the cold. The sky had begun to snow and Tsume didn't want to find himself cold already.

After finishing his meal, he immediately moved to the tallest building he could spot from the tempura stand. Careful not to look up -lest he hesitate- he dashed up the wall, using the grooves between the stones to get the traction he needed to climb. His fingertips clasped to the first beam they could reach. With his weight focused into his extremities, Tsume was comfortable enough to advance upward. He scanned the building for his next goal. He sidled left toward the window, careful not to shift his balance. With his hands in the windowsill, he lifted himself until his toes clung to where his fingers had been. Up above, he could not locate a safe place to grab on this wall. Undeterred, he hung from the beam to shimmy around the outer corner.

On this new wall, Tsume could see another window above. Unfortunately, the wind had been blowing the snow into the ledges he would use to climb. A little frozen water wouldn't stop him. However, it tried its best to cast him down when he lost his balance for a few seconds.

The last two years have been, according to Sensei, the most grueling training known to man. Normally, he had told them, it would be finished in a year, but Sensei wanted the Japanese Assassins to be better trained to make up for their current lack of numbers. Tsume felt it a great honor to be one of the few. Failure to to climb a stupid building would be impermissible.

"Oh, that was easy," Tsume chuckled. Amidst his contemplation he had reached the rooftop. This would be a good enough vantage point to watch the action below. Even with his fellow recruits all dressed in white, they couldn't hide in the snow; especially not with their target advertising himself on the rooftop.

The city was quieter than usual. Wherever he looked, hardly a soul was in sight. Tsume thought back to what Nariko-san had taught him about his 'gift of knowledge.' She told him that it was stripping your mind from its senses to open a new sense. Tsume had attempted to activate it before, but only got sleepy. She tried to clarify the difference between dulling the senses and dulling the mind, but Tsume never quite understood. He still wanted to get it right, though.

Tenuously, his eyes shut. The street was silent. The cold had numbed both his feeling and his smell. He drew a heavy breath. Then, he heard the crunch of snow. As he released his breath, his eyes came open.

All about, Tsume's world had gone blacker than night. Only faint sketches of the rest of Edo's poor district remained. A golden streak lined one of the streets. Curious, Tsume walked to the edge of the roof to get a better view. He couldn't help but notice that it came about halfway up the-

An arm covered Tsume's mouth as a dull point pressed into his back ribs. As swiftly as they had appeared, the arms had retreated. Tsume's first experience with his gift was cut short. Once his eyes had readjusted to the brightness of the snow, he saw that Tokiro was responsible for his first 'death.'

"Hi Tsume," he said in his usual cheerful demeanor, "How are you today?"

"I was doing okay," Tsume said as he waited for his heartbeat to slow back to normal, "Ate some decent tempura earlier. You?"

Tokiro scratched the back of his head and yawned, "You know, I talked to Joseph earlier."

"Yeah?" Tsume replied, only half-invested in the conversation.

"Yeah. He said that the point of this game is to put all of our training to use."

"Really?" this was not news to Tsume.

"Yeah, but could I get your opinion on something?"

"Um, I guess."

You know how Sensei says that samurai are some of the worst swordsmen in the world?"

"Peace will make a warrior rust faster than his sword. We've had two centuries of rusty samurai."

"Yeah, but with all of this training, how soft can they be?"

"The first time I saw an Assassin, Sensei and his team had only been here for a few days. Joseph only needed to knock down a samurai twice before he ran like a coward."

"I really don't think Joseph would ever run from a fight he wasn't confident he could win."

"The samurai was the one who ran."

"Really? As I heard it, he killed six samurai before he needed to escape with your life."

"I swear, if he could get paid for embellishing stories, Joseph could be a very wealthy man."

"Would you care to tell me what really happened?"

"Just ask Joseph again. I guarantee you'll get a different version than last time. Maybe he'll make it seven samurai. Maybe he'll make them into oni {demons}."

"But it won't be the true story."

"Look, I have better things to do than tell you things that you should already know."

"Wow. I thought you said you were having a good day."

Tsume reached for one of his flags which he extended to Tokiro, "Just go."

Tokiro eagerly accepted the flag and shoved it into his kimono, "So, do you know the way down?"

"No. I hadn't checked yet. Maybe you could climb down slowly as long as you're good at that."

Tokiro examined the street from the rooftop before stopping at the corner, "I see a haystack from here. I could probably land in it."

Tsume now realized the opportunity he had been given. As long as Tokiro's back was turned, Tsume could easily claim a 'kill' of his own. In one motion, he drew and swung his bokken in an arc, thumping Tokiro on the head.

"Ow!" Tokiro grabbed his head with one hand, "Shit, why did you do that? Oh."

With the bokken still drawn, Tsume's left palm politely requested a flag. Tokiro rolled his eyes as he complied to Tsume's wish. "You can't be serious," Tokiro protested.

"Everything is permitted. Now go before I take another."

Tsume smiled upon receiving proof of his first 'kill.' "You can be a jerk sometimes," Tokiro scowled, "You know I'll get you back for this."

"I don't want a cycle of recycled revenge. We've already called it even."

"Fine," Tokiro huffed before leaping into the haystack below. Tsume admired his lack of hesitation, but now was not the time to be admiring. Now was the time to be admirable.

As Tokiro fled down the street, Tsume readied himself at the corner. He could easily spot the haystack below because of the snow it had lost when Tokiro landed. Tsume steeled himself in preparation to jump. He had always hated the leap of faith because his childhood taught him that leaving safety to fate would certainly leave him in an early grave. Still, descaling the tower would only advertise his whereabouts and leave him exposed for another attack.

His feet pushed off to where his eyes guided them. He twisted in the air until his back was to the ground and his limbs were splayed. Before he knew it, he had landed safely in the haystack. He quickly wrapped the straw over himself, lest anyone spot him just yet. With a quick observation of his surroundings, Tsume determined the area to be clear and leapt from the hay cart and into the street.

Garen was right. Tsume was not safe in familiar territory. He needed to find a place where his eyes would always be peeled. The rich district seemed a logical enough choice.

In the distance, a clacking sound was becoming gradually clearer. Tsume spotted a figure running from up the street. It was obviously one of his fellow students, but it wasn't clear if he was running for Tsume or from another recruit. It could even be both.

Tsume still didn't want to play risks. He slowly advanced to the right until he had just enough distance between himself and the possible escapist to allow safe passage, but not so much that he would be pinned against the wall in case of am attack. As the figure did not approach his side, Tsume got the idea that he may as well be invisible. It was the perfect time to score another 'kill.'

Tsume clutched his bokken hilt. The alley was too narrow for his target to have much chance of escape, not that it was inevitable. He still wanted to make sure that his stance wouldn't give his intention away, so he held straight. The target was now close enough to identify as Eiji.

One. Two. Three.

With one swing, Tsume's bokken was drawn and floored Eiji. Snow scattered like sand on the beach as Eiji slid on his rear for roughly a yard. Tsume immediately sheathed the bokken and extended a hand to assist Eiji to his feet.

Eiji stood back up on his own, skittish but disbelieving. "Just take it," he said as he cast a flag to Tsume's feet and ran off again.

Once again, Tsume heard footsteps rapidly approaching from the direction Eiji had come. It was at that moment when Tsume remembered that Eiji was definitely on the run from someone. Tsume turned sharply about to avoid the tip of a bokken that he almost felt swipe his nose. Tsume struck back at his assailant, but was deflected. He stepped back to create distance before striking again. The assailant grabbed his sword hand, pressing on the tendons and releasing Tsume's weapon. Tsume unleashed his hidden blade for the attacker's throat, but was knocked back.

"Shit," Tsume exclaimed when he saw who this one was, "Kennosuke."

"Hello Tsume," Kennosuke said in a cheer that was miles different from his usual gloom-and-doom persona.

Not wanting to get into an unwinnable match with Arkwright's star pupil, Tsume fled down the street from which Eiji had come. He knew well enough that the other direction had no hiding places to offer, so hopefully Eiji had missed something. A quick glance over his shoulder assured Tsume that Kennosuke was still following.

Tsume's eyes locked onto a pile of crates and a stray beam which hung a lantern over a street corner. He immediately scaled the crates and swung around the corner, where he landed on another stray beam. Without stopping to check his back, Tsume ran up the wall and stumbled onto the roof. He ran up the next story like it was nothing and continued in that fashion until he had scaled several rooftops. He checked behind to verify that Kennosuke was still following. He was.

Tsume descended one floor and found a ladder. He ran down the ladder as quickly as he could manage. Once his feet were firmly on the ground, he knocked over the ladder to ensure that Kennosuke couldn't follow closely. Thankfully, Kennosuke was only close enough behind to peek over the edge and mourn the loss of his precious ladder. Tsume was in just such a mood to pull down one eyelid and stick his tongue out to taunt Kennosuke.

As Tsume tried to blend in with the crowd, he managed to reassess his location. He was certainly in Edo Square. It normally wouldn't be this busy on a snowy winter day, but Tsume was in no position to complain. The crowd provided both warmth and a safe hiding place from fellow recruits.

Curious as to why so many had gathered in the square on this day, Tsume gently pushed his way to the densest of the stalls which lined the square. With a tap on the shoulder, he caught the attention of a man holding a strangely ornate vase, "Excuse me, sir. What is all of this commotion? Normally snow is bad for business."

"Oh uhh, these shops are having massive sales on Chinese goods."

"Oh right. Tokugawa opened the ports. Obviously," Tsume lightly smacked himself on the head for missing that one.

While the recruits had been in isolation to focus on their training, the world outside continued as if a dozen children hadn't disappeared to become well-trained killing machines. Nariko-san would bring in news from her geisha to remind them of this every few days. Around the time Commodore Matthew Perry succeeded in forcing the bakufu {government} to his will was around the time that Arkwright-sensei had sped up their training. Tsume saw no coincidence there. Clearly, he wanted to keep the recruits' practicing until the time came to strike. Asuka-gozen had warned that the situation with the ports would also mean increased Templar activity in Japan. Perhaps if he kept his eyes peeled and could maybe use his gift again, Tsume could spot such Templar activity in its early stages.

"Yeah," said the man with the vase, "Ever since then, Edo has had a huge demand for Chuugoku products. This booth is having a buy-one-get-one-free sale and I just can't resist free things."

Tsume was somewhat amused by how excitedly this man seemed to impart this knowledge. Seeing now as a fine time to take a break, Tsume chose to further engage him, "But I only see one thing. Where's your free thing?"

"Oh, I got this Chuugoku brush. Would you like to see it?"

"Erm, not yet. Do any of these booths sell Chuugoku swords?"

"Not the booths, but the blacksmith may have some imported swords or some Japanese-made knockoffs, but I'm not a sword owner so I wouldn't know. Why do you ask?"

"As you can see, I'm a samurai in training," Tsume lied as he motioned to his bokken... which was no longer there. Great. Tsume tried to improvise, "I hail from Nagasaki, where I had a chance to practice with Chuugoku swords. Honestly, I prefer them to the katana that we get issued. I was just hoping you could give me an estimate on the price of one."

"If it's actually from Chuugoku, then it'll probably be pretty far out of your price range, but like I said, I'm not really the guy to ask. Okay? Well, I gotta go. Can't wait to show my wife what I got her. Sayonara."

"Yeah, good luck," Tsume meekly called as the man ran off for Edo's middle-class district.

Tsume made tracks to the blacksmith shop across the square. The curiosity was eating away at him. The shop in Nagasaki had so many different kinds of swords that Tsume had never seen before, but he couldn't have read the signs to see exactly where those swords were from. That situation was exacerbated by the fact that the Nagasaki shopkeeper was obviously a dishonest man.

Tsume saw now that the man from Nagasaki was at least a little sincere with his wares. The Edo shopkeeper's goods were granted familiar labels for familiar weapons while the Chinese weapons were also labeled thusly. The swords that were thin at the base and thick at the tip were marked as 'dao' while the elegant swords Tsume so admired in Nagasaki were apparently called 'jian.'

"May I hold a jian?" Tsume politely asked the shopkeeper.

The shopkeeper kindly obliged, handing one of his two jian over to Tsume. The crossguard was a beautiful bronze with jade embedded into the sides. The pommel was similar, but a short red rope wrapped around it and hung about a hand's length. The blade was roughly the length of Tsume's arm and about as polished as a fine mirror.

"Do you only have the two?" Tsume asked.

"For now, yes."

"Are they from Chuugoku? Or did you make them?"

"I made them, and do you know why?"

"Not necessarily."

"Jian are highly prized swords in Chuugoku. To import one would cost more money than I can afford. Besides, Nippon swords are always the best quality, no matter what shape they take. Wouldn't you say?"

"I'd say you're either throwing me a sales pitch or you are very confident in your skills."

The shopkeeper smiled.

Tsume smiled back, "How much for one?"

"Ten ryo {40,000 mon}."

"I'm afraid I don't have that much."

"Then you can come again another time. As long as a demand exists, I will supply it."

Tsume nodded, "Arigato. Sayonara."

The shopkeeper bowed in return before Tsume returned to the square. It was then that Tsume realized that he was being distracted by shiny things. Perhaps he did need to be spending less time with Joseph, but as long as he wasn't falling asleep on horseback, he should be fine.

He debated within himself if now would be the best time to jump back into the game. On one hand, he only had two kills. At this rate, he would have a better chance at winning if he were to just sit in safety and wait until only one other remains. On the other hand, that one would probably be Kennosuke. Tsume was able to escape him, but waiting would force them into direct confrontation. Even if Kennosuke had one flag, he wouldn't have a problem beating Tsume twice. He needed to deb-

A blunt point pressed into his belly from the front as a miko bumped into him. "Oh Tsume, keeping your guard down?" Azusa's voice said in a mocking tone, "You should know better by now."

Tsume stepped back to face her. Between the two female recruits, Azusa and Motoko, Azusa was the younger and more clever one. She had apparently exchanged her gray hakama for a much bigger red miko hakama which perfectly hid her in the crowd while Tsume's scar acted as a beacon. Tsume made a mental note to kick himself for not noticing her sooner.

"How long have you been watching me?" Tsume sighed.

"I don't know. When did you start making faces at Kennosuke?"

"That long?"

"I managed to get two more flags since then."

"You're kidding, right?"

Without a word, Azusa removed four flags from her kimono. She was certainly not kidding. Tsume showed her his two flags in return. Quietly and ashamedly, he returned both flags to his kimono.

"Actually, I need to add one," she ripped a flag from Tsume's obi and looked on his shamed expression, "You know, Tsume, I have an idea you may like."

Tsume gave her one attentive eye.

"Well, you're down to one flag and I'm down to two," Azusa continued, "We could both use as much help as possible, so I propose a temporary alliance."

"Good idea," Tsume placed his hand on Azusa's shoulder and struck her ribs with his practice hidden blade, "Make it one."

Azusa glared as her flag was relinquished, "And that's why you're perfect. You'll be the bait and lead them to me. We'll double up against them. They won't stand a chance."

"Why do I have to be the bait?"

An diagonal smirk crossed Azusa's face, "Because, Tsume, who is going to recognize me?"

"True enough. Do you think this is fair to the other recruits?"

"When have you ever cared about fairness?"

"I guess never. What about Kennosuke?"

"What is it with you and Kennosuke?" Azusa chortled, "Trust me on this. As long as we work together, we can win."

"What do you mean 'we can win?' There can be only one winner."

Azusa placed a hand on Tsume's left forearm. With a press of her thumb, his training blade ejected. She moved the blade to the top of her throat, just between the jaws. "We will turn on one another," she said calmly, "but only after the others have fallen."

Some hours had passed, and Azusa's plan was proving very successful after all. Motoko, Tokiro, and Shimoda had all been removed from the game by the duo. Maruyama almost managed to take Azusa's last flag, but Tsume quickly sent him on his way. By this point, Tsume and Azusa had managed to get nine and ten flags respectively. Gaining flags wasn't the point, but somehow, it felt like part of the point.

Tsume stood just outside of the square when he saw his one-sided rival, Kennosuke. "Hey!" Tsume called, "I'm over here."

Unflinching, Kennosuke began the chase. Tsume spun about and dashed for the center of Edo square. Just as planned, Azusa was ready. In a flash, she sprung the trap and stuck her prize with her practice blade. However, Kennosuke's reaction was not typical. He did not step back and reach for his flag, nor did he retaliate.

"Please don't tell me you thought I'd fall for that," Kennosuke said to Azusa.

"But you did," she responded.

"Excuse me," Tsume interrupted, "What is going on? Azusa, just take his flag and let him go."

"Tsume," Kennosuke said as he stepped away with Azusa's last flag in hand, "You aren't the first person that Azusa has brokered that deal with," he handed his flag over to Azusa, leaving two more, "We were the last three left in the game and I figured I could spare one if it meant winning the competition."

"Wait. That was your first flag?"

"I would recommend you run."

Tsume drew his bamboo dagger with his left hand, "You're funny."

Tsume's heart began racing when Kennosuke drew his bokken. Until minutes ago, he had played nearly the entire game thus far untouched. He almost always ranked top in every challenge the recruits were given. Tsume was merely an average student. Then again, Azusa usually ranked near the bottom and here she was guaranteed third place. Even with first place out of reach, Tsume wasn't going to go down without a fight.

"Well?" he said to Kennosuke, who had been holding his stance for minutes, "Come at me."

No response. Tsume tried to think. There were two ways to get an attack from Kennosuke: attack and get countered, or drop guard. Neither option looked appealing. The last thing he wanted to do was lose his last flag to his own idiocy.

Just over Kennosuke's shoulder, Tsume's eyes picked up a very familiar eyepatch. Of course! Sensei said that their trainers would be overseeing the game. An idea immediately came to Tsume.

"Kennosuke, what did Asuka-gozen tell you about samurai stance?"

"What Oba-san said doesn't matter right now."

"OBA-SAN?" Asuka hated being called that by Kennosuke, because she was neither middle-aged nor his aunt, more like a second cousin.

As Kennosuke glanced over his shoulder to apologize, Tsume charged. Kennosuke quickly tried to counter, but it fumbled. Tsume spun to the left, keeping his back to Kennosuke's back. After three steps Tsume stepped out and 'slashed' across Kennosuke's nape.

"Yeah! Kick his ass, Tsume!" Asuka yelled, "I know you can do it! Fucking 'Oba-san' my ass."

"Go Tsume!" Azusa joined.

Kennosuke straightened from his combat stance and tossed Tsume a flag. Tsume hadn't bothered to pick it up. Now was not the time. This game was going to end here now and he actually had a real shot.

"Tsu-Me! Tsu-Me! Tsu-Me!" the crowd had begun chanting his name, no doubt spurred by Azusa and Asuka.

Once again, Tsume and Kennosuke were locked in combat stance. Tsume's pulse was racing hard enough for him to hear. His breathing had become so heavy that the steam breath was beginning to obscure his vision. The heavy sweat was not helping in this cold weather. He brushed a stray lock of hair from his eyes. The crowd's support was moving Tsume's heart from his chest to his arms.

He kicked up a snowscreen and charged at Kennosuke. In an instant, it was over. Kennosuke's bokken struck Tsume's neck.

Tsume fell to his knees. He was tired. After a few breaths, he conceded his flag to the victor. Kennosuke offered Tsume a hand to get back to his feet, which he accepted.

"You did well," Kennosuke said almost apologetically.

After brushing the snow off of his hakama, Tsume sheathed his practice dagger. While he fully hadn't expected to win, he less expected to make second place. He still couldn't shake this odd sense of shame for not actually winning. If pragmatism couldn't best Kennosuke, how much improvement would Tsume need in order to catch up? Regardless, he was kind of glad that the game was finally over. A hot cup of tea and a warm bowl of miso soup would be a perfect way to end today.

"So, Asuka-gozen," Azusa broke the silence, "Where is the tallest tower in Edo?"

Asuka rolled her eye, "Don't tell me you haven't noticed."

"I haven't spent much time on the rooftops."

"Up," Asuka pointed to the tallest building in sight.

Azusa knew better than to question Asuka. In fact, only Sensei was allowed such a permission, and he had only exercised it once that Tsume had heard of. Even now, no one would admit to actually witnessing it, especially since Asuka got pregnant.

"Wait," Tsume interjected, "It's the-"

Asuka's palm appeared from nowhere to strike Tsume's face. He wanted to say something, but her palm had morphed into a finger pointing silence into him. Kennosuke moved to try to answer, but was quieted in a very similar way. The difference was that she mumbled something about being called an old woman.

She slowly turned around to where Azusa stood. Asuka's face fell into her hand when she saw that Azusa was still there. Her hand pointed sharply the same building she had pointed to before. Azusa turtled into her kimono to shelter herself from the ronin's wrath.

"Go!" Asuka screamed.

As Azusa scurried to the roof, Tsume cautiously scanned the area around himself and Kennosuke. Several people had stopped their daily routine, almost certainly curious about this scene. Perhaps it was the woman with two swords and one eye. Perhaps it was the fact that she was smacking two young men. Perhaps it was the general un-lady-like behavior coming from a pregnant woman. Whatever it was, Asuka was certainly the street's main attraction.

Uneager to stay and witness anything else that Asuka may have for them, Tsume nodded to Kennosuke to head the west tower of Edo Castle. He knew well enough that both he and Kennosuke would know the location of the tower. This was not yet the case for Azusa, as she was from Kyoto. To Tsume's knowledge, this was Azusa's second time in Edo and the first time in roughly two years. Of all of Arkwright's recruits, she was the twelfth and last to join.

Kennosuke's nodding indicated that, no, he did not want to stick around to see what would become of Azusa. The two quietly began walking to the-

"I hope you don't plan on leaving without me," Asuka said in a tone much colder than the snow that had tipped her off of their movement.

"We were honestly hoping that we could," Tsume squeaked.

"Oh no. I want to see the look on Arkwright-san's face when he sees that I won."

"What? No. I won," Kennosuke interjected.

"Not that. I bet a ryo that Kennosuke would win without breaking the code of bushido."

"You gambled on us?" Kennosuke looked horrified.

Asuka shrugged.

"Why would you do that?"

"Well, while I agree that fighting fair is one of the surest ways to get killed, I wanted to prove that Kennosuke was so good that he didn't need to be pragmatic to win."

"Wait," Tsume stepped in, "why didn't you have any faith in the rest of us?"

"Tsume, you got that flag off of Kennosuke mostly fairly. There's no doubt that you all have a long way to go, but Kennosuke is the only recruit who has had both samurai and Assassin training from the day he was born. I suppose that was his unfair advantage."

Tsume couldn't decide which bothered him more, her callousness or how blatantly unfair the game had been from the beginning.

"Then again," she continued, "Azusa almost won and she's had even less Assassin training than Tsume. Even then, Tsume has had the least combat training of everyone. He just has a really good aptitude for learning."

Tsume felt a little better after hearing that. He began to wonder about just what kind of fighter he could be in a year. Even Kenno-

"Hey, I found the tower," Azusa leapt down from the building, "but I also found something else. You should come see it."

"What is it?" Asuka asked.

"I don't know. It sounds like some guy is talking about giving in to the foreigners."

"What else did you gather?"

"Not much. I couldn't hear him very well over the crowd."

"Crowd?"

"Yeah, he has a whole congregation just eating this shit up."

"Where is he?"

"On the other side of this building."

Asuka glanced back at the other two behind her. "I say we investigate. Let's go."

Not even a three minute walk around the building was a small gathering of maybe a dozen or so people. Before them stood a somewhat squirrelish looking samurai whose haori appeared a few sizes too big. His face was long and bony, like he had skipped the last year's worth of food and sleep.

"Do not be fooled by the foreigners! They would have you believe that they only want to open trade relations, but they lie! They will settle for nothing less than the subjugation of every civilized Japanese person! 'For what?' you ask, but the answer is clear! They want only their own financial gain! Look no further than Chuugoku when they lost the Opium War not against a western nation, but against A WESTERN BUSINESS! We cannot fight them as things are now! We must rebuild! We must use their own ways against them!"

Tsume was mesmerized by the speech. While he didn't necessarily agree with all of it, Japan really had fallen behind the times and looking to the past could only beget more trouble. In Nariko's class, they had all been taught about the troubles China was having with the British and the Philippines had with the Spanish and even the troubles Japan nearly had with the Portuguese. Could this man have been right? If so, wouldn't the Americans be the biggest threat to Japan?

He tapped the arm of the woman beside him, "Excuse me, but who is this guy?"

"Great, isn't he? He's Egawa Hidetatsu. He's an intendant for the Tokugawa."

"Really? That sounds important."

"Oh, he is. He's been giving these speeches almost every day ever since Mashuuperii {Matthew Perry} got Tokugawa to open the ports."

Before he could say something in return, Tsume was jerked away from the rally. Apparently, Asuka wasn't handling it too well. Her hand squeezed his arm like an iron vice. His kimono did little to shield him from her nails as he could feel them pressing into his skin,

"Is something wrong, Asuka-gozen?" he asked concerned.

"That speech. Everything was wrong with it."

"Well, I asked someone," Tsume stepped in, "His name is-"

"Egawa Hidetatsu. We've met."

"How do you know him?" Kennosuke asked.

"He's a Tempura {Templar}," she said barely over her shoulder.

Tsume stopped to process what he had just heard. A Templar? "Wait, why didn't we kill him?"

"And make a martyr of the man? We've been keeping our eyes on him for years, but he hasn't given us an opening yet."

"We? Sensei knows about him?"

"He's one of he reasons Arkwright-san is here to begin with."

"Asuka," Kennosuke said, "I have a different question for you."

"Fine," she pinched her temple, "Ask."

"Why did you bet on me, but cheer for Tsume?"

"Because," Asuka's palm crossed Kennosuke's face before her backhand crossed him the other way, "Never call me Oba-san."

Kennosuke regained his composure faster than expected. "I am sorry," he bowed, "It will not happen again."

"Whatever," she started again to Edo castle and the three recruits followed.

Kennosuke was obviously not going to speak again. As much as Tsume hated awkward banter and incessant apologizing, he was fine with that. In fact, he was content with listening to the crunch of the snow and the murmur of citizens as the recruits progressed to the castle.

"Hey Tsume," Azusa whispered to keep beneath Asuka's attention, "How did you know that Asuka-gozen was in the crowd?"

Tsume smiled for knowing the answer. He whispered back, "How many people do you know keep a big target on the side of their face?"

He suddenly found himself feeling a lot better about his scar. Perhaps Garen was wrong. If Asuka had managed to be a high-ranking Assassin with that conspicuous eye patch, maybe Tsume's scar wouldn't be too bad after all.

When they had arrived at Edo castle, they spotted Joseph and Garen sitting at the base of the wall. Even seated, Joseph was the taller of the two by almost a full head.

"See? I told you he'd lose," Garen said, obviously about Tsume, "That scar gave him away."

Joseph took a puff from his pipe, "That's because he wasn't able to grow a beard in the minutes between talking to you and the game starting."

"What the Hell are you boys doing here?" Asuka yelled. She didn't appear so much curious as angry. Frankly, she probably didn't want any kind of answer.

"You mean Edo?" Garen said, "We've been here for a while."

Joseph scooted away from Garen, possibly fearing Asuka's wrath.

"Joseph, what are you- OW!"

Asuka's sheath bashed Garen too quickly to see where it hit. Joseph broke out laughing, but was hit in the same fashion. It was only when they clutched their heads that Tsume could tell where they had been struck.

"Just be glad you weren't standing," Asuka said as she returned the sheath to her obi, "Now get back up there."

Atop the tower, the recruits stood in formation opposite four of their five trainers. In the center of the rooftop was an outdoor kagizuru. The sun was setting over Mt. Fuji, painting the sky a pinkish color.

Then, a small figure emerged from behind Sensei. Hitsu? Tsume broke formation to approach his little brother, but Sensei snapped his fingers. Normally, that meant that someone's formation was improper and everyone would need to correct until everyone was right.

Tsume disregarded Sensei's warning. "What kind of irresponsible baka would bring Hitsu up here?"

"I did," Joseph answered.

"Why?"

"We figured you'd be less angry if I confessed. Besides, we wouldn't want him to miss this."

Tsume paused, "What is this?"

Sensei snapped and Tsume obeyed. As he returned, he caught a glimpse of envy on Kennosuke's face. His mother, Nariko, obviously couldn't attend. Tsume didn't mind that as much as Kennosuke did. While Kennosuke's mother couldn't attend due to blindness, Tsume's parents couldn't attend due to being killed by Matthew Perry.

Sensei paced before his followers, "Where other men blindly follow the truth, remember..."

"Nothing is true," they said in unison.

"Where other men are limited by morality or law, remember..."

"Everything is permitted."

"Nothing is true; everything is permitted. We work in the dark to serve the light. We are Assassins. Tsume, Maruyama, and Motoko. Step forward."

Tsume followed the command as the three formed a new formation before the other recruit. Joseph now had Hitsu sitting on his shoulders as the teachers all watched. Sensei drew a pen and a sheet of parchment, "Tsume, what is your new name?"

Tsume's gut tied with his throat. He hadn't thought quite as hard as he should have thought on it. What was it he wanted? Something about eagles. Could that be too conspicuous? Perhaps something a little more subdued would be better.

"Maruyama, what is your new name?" Sensei asked.

Tsume breathed a bit of relief now that he had some time to think.

"Heihachi Kojo."

Or not.

"Motoko, what is your new name?"

Tsume had always been Tsume. It was the only name he knew and, apart from Hitsu, was the only thing he had to remind himself of his parents. As much as he wanted to leave poverty in his past, that and his family would always define him. Also, something about eagles. Washi? Washio?

"Toriyama Rangiku."

"Tsume, what is your new name?"

"Washio Tsume."

Sensei nodded and scribbled something -probably the new name- onto the parchment. When he snapped, the recruits jumped back into formation. Garen lit the kagizuru and Asuka opened a sack. Joseph let Hitsu down and grabbed a pair of tongs which he held over the fire. Hitsu immediately gravitated to his big brother. Tsume broke formation to take Hitsu and prop the child on his hip before returning to where he stood.

"Tsume," Hitsu begged for his attention, "Tsume."

Tsume tried not to answer, or he'd be breaking formation more than he already was. Were the others not busy with other things, Sensei would not approve of Tsume keeping Hitsu like this.

"Tsume," Hitsu tugged, "I painted."

"You painted?" Tsume whispered, trying not to make to make eye contact, "That's great. What did you paint?"

Hitsu pointed to Mt. Fuji, "Fuji-san."

Tsume couldn't hold back his smile, "Really? Can I see it?"

"No. Sanzo has it."

"Sanzo has it? Why does Sanzo have it?" as fond as Tsume was for Asuka, he was not quite as fond of her husband Sanzo. He was a textile merchant with a tendency to hide behind his wife when things got difficult. At least the man was good with kids.

"It's not done. Hey, Tsume, Sensei wants you."

With a sigh, Tsume lifted Hitsu to Sensei. Sensei, however, did not seem interested in Hitsu so much as he was interested in Tsume's left hand. Tsume cautiously raised his hand in response. As Joseph raised the tongs from the fire, Tsume realized what was about to happen. He grit his teeth and pressed his brother in preparation. The red heat of the iron embracing his ring finger was somehow both more and less painful than he expected.

Once it was over, he opened his eyes. Tears of pain had formed in the corners.

"Assassin," Sensei said as he motioned to the platform.

Tsume looked down from the rooftop. Far below, he could see the haystack that had been set as their target. He steeled himself to jump, but Sensei had stopped him.

"Give him to me," Sensei said, "I've done a leap of faith with a passenger before."

Not wanting to hurt Hitsu, Tsume passed his brother on. Asuka approached him with a shiny new hidden blade. Tsume fitted it onto his left arm and ejected it once before retracting it. With a bow, he faced the edge of the roof once more. He took a breath before he readied his jump. He had climbed this tower as Tsume, the child, and left as Washio Tsume, the Assassin.


	6. A First Time for Everything

February 17, 1855 in Edo, Japan

The place was as dingy as it was huge, but at least it was warmer than outside. Gamblers, criminals, and onlookers surrounded the many mats which lay on the floor. Judging by the tattoos displayed by the shirtless dealers, this gambling den was most certainly run by Yakuza.

Tsume was familiar with these kinds of places. His father had always called them 'fisheries of men.' If anyone could have concocted that analogy, it would have been him. Very few things could take an honest fisherman from his home and put him on the street quite as efficiently as an unhealthy addiction to chance and sake. It was for that very reason that Tsume had long sworn off gambling.

As such, he had not come to participate in these cyclical games. He had come to find Asuka's stray husband, Sanzo. A first glance yielded no trace of him just yet. Tsume was not planning to give up quite so easily. He had inspected too many dens today and this was one of the last in the middle-class district of Edo.

Tsume closed his eyes, hoping to activate his gift of knowledge. It wouldn't always work, but if it did, he could avoid drawing too much attention to both Sanzo and himself without disrupting these poor souls from bleeding out their wallets. He could even avoid needing to cross the entire district to get to the next den provided Sanzo was even here.

When his eyes opened, everything went black. Daily practice had improved Tsume's ability to use his gift, even in crowded conditions such as this. All of the dealers and some patrons emanated dangerous red auras about them. There were no friendly blue auras, which was actually good. Tsume was unsure of how he would react if he had found one of his fellow Assassins here. One aura stood out, though. It was gold. It was Sanzo.

Tsume approached Sanzo's location and restored his regular senses. As expected, Sanzo was playing a game of Cho-Han. "Your wife says no more gambling, remember?" Tsume informed him, "She wants you to come home."

"Ooohhh" one of the patrons mocked, "Sanzo-chan's wife is angry."

Sanzo facepalmed, "Sanzo-chan? Really? Two shu {500 mon} on cho {even}!"

The dealer rolled the dice from his bamboo cup and onto the mat, "Han {Odd}!"

"Hey! No fair! You cheated!"

"How could I cheat?"

"These dice are loaded! They usually land on what I don't call!"

"Sanzo-san, you called cho. Dice can only be loaded to land on cho. Even if we had loaded them, you could easily tell by looking at them."

"That's not true," Tsume interrupted, "Loading dice is about balance."

The dealer glared at Tsume, "Are you calling me a cheater?"

"No and I don't care if you are. Sanzo-san and I need to be leaving," Tsume grabbed Sanzo by the arm and lifted him from the mat, "He was supposed to be home hours ago."

"Wait, Tsume. Just one more round," Sanzo begged.

A rather powerful hand jerked Tsume around by the shoulder. Before him stood a large dirty man with a very patchy beard. The colors and lines around his wrists and neck indicated that he was a Yakuza, possible even the supervisor of this den. He held one eye open as if he were inspecting Tsume for something; possibly fleas. Tsume wasn't sure why he would be inspecting for fleas. The man seemed to have plenty enough.

"I recognize that scar," the man said, his breath reeking of fish and sake, "I've seen you around."

Tsume bowed, "And it's a pleasure to see you again, but really we must be going." He was sounding more like Joseph every day.

The man grabbed Tsume by the shoulders, "You're one of those kids who runs around with those gaijin {barbarians} and the woman who thinks she's a samurai."

"Nope. You must be thinking of someo-"

"Hey!" Sanzo interrupted, "That woman is my wife, and I'll have you know she can kick your nasty ass all the way to Kan-Koku {Korea} and back again."

"Dammit, Sanzo."

All of the dealers and guards and even some patrons had begun drawing tanto {daggers} hidden in their clothes. They had apparently been listening in on this conversation.

"Are you boys talking about me?" Asuka's voice resonated amongst the tension. She must have gotten impatient and acted on her own.

"Kasai-gozen, good to see you," Tsume was somewhat relieved that this wasn't going to be a completely hopeless situation. On the other hand, Asuka was more pregnant than ever and absolutely did not need to be getting into fights with Yakuza or anyone else for that matter.

"Hey dear, I'm going home now," Sanzo muttered.

The Yakuza pushed Tsume into Asuka, "You're not going anywhere!" He brandished his own tanto.

"Tsume," Asuka said as she regained her balance, "Do you remember the rules on lethal force?"

"Uhh, self defense, defense of others, threat to the Order-"

"I'll take that as a yes. Disregard them for now."

"What?"

"We will only use nonlethal force here, so put away your sword."

It wasn't until Asuka pointed it out that Tsume realized his sword was already half-drawn. With his eyes watching the belligerents in the room, he slowly returned it to the sheath, "Breaking bones okay?"

"Bones and joints."

Tsume and Asuka shifted into a back-to-back combat stance with Sanzo between them. Tsume estimated a dozen or so men wanted a piece of him. That was about a dozen or so more than he was wanting to fight, but peaceful options appeared to be nil. Then again, most of these men were scrawny. Were half of them not armed, they would not have been a threat. It still wouldn't take much more than a punch or two to bring each one down.

"By the way, Washio-san, how much do you bet I can take out more of these guys than you?"

"Asuka, please not now."

"I don't know. It looks like the right place to me."

"I'm not betting on this."

Some random unarmed man threw the first punch. Tsume easily used the amateur's momentum to fling him into an armed man. One and two. Another charged with a tanto. Tsume sidestepped and broke his arm at the elbow. As he fell to his knees, Tsume kicked him aside. Three. The next man attacked from Tsume's other side. Tsume grabbed the attacking wrist and pulled him in for a harder punch to the face. Four. Tsume stepped toward the man who had started this whole mess. He swiped his tanto, but Tsume spun to the left. With a simple kick behind the knee and arm to the throat, he was brought to the floor where Tsume stomped cracks into his sternum. Five.

With a quick scan of the area, Tsume noticed the belligerent patrons and dealers were already making well-informed retreats. The threat appeared to have been suppressed. He drew a sigh of relief as he dropped his stance.

"I got twelve," Asuka boasted, "How about you, Tsume?"

Tsume held up a proud hand with all five fingers outstretched. Even if he didn't manage as many as a pregnant woman, he wasn't dismayed. Asuka was the only person he had ever seen best Sensei in a spar. Granted, Sensei won more often than not, but no one else even had a prayer against him.

"And how much did we bet that I would win?" She asked.

"We never made any bets," Tsume replied.

"That's no good. What do you say we go back home?"

"Yes dear," Sanzo whimpered.

Tsume just nodded and faced the doorway. As he followed the couple out the door, he glimpsed a kind of fear in the faces in the inhabitants of the den. The patrons showed a kind of respectful fear. The dealers however wore more vengeful looks. Tsume didn't fear them, though. Instead, a kind of empowerment filled his chest. He had become an enviable force here.

One dealer was on his knees near the doorway. Tsume swiftly grabbed the hilt of his sword and looked him in the eyes. As quickly as Tsume moved, the dealer flinched and scurried away. Tsume couldn't help but to mock such a blatant display of cowardice with a lau-

A hand yanked him out of the den by his hair, nearly pulling it out in the process. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Asuka inquired with an anger in her eye.

"I was just... I was... Uhh..."

"No excuses. Taunting someone after a fight is in poor taste. Besides, our first priority should always be to get out as quickly as possible."

"AND THAT'S WHY I LISTEN TO MY WIFE!" Sanzo yelled into the den before being pulled out in the same fashion as Tsume was.

Asuka was pulling them them down the street by their hair to the Kasai household, as opposed to the usual dynamic in which men led women. Tsume wasn't necessarily looking forward to walking another hour to get there, especially not bent like this. He had already traversed half of Edo just today. At the very least, he got to wear his tabi {socks} on chilly winter days like today. That was always more comfortable than walking directly on his geta {sandals}.

"You're both lucky I showed up when I did," Asuka said, not bothering to look back at either of them, "Sanzo, do you remember what I said about gambling?"

"Uhh ... Don't?"

"Exactly. And what were you doing?"

"Well, you see... I wasn't really gambling. A friend of mine was there and I was trying to get him to stop."

Tsume laughed, "Yeah, you stopped him so hard you lost half a bu {2 shu or 500 mon}."

"Dammit, Tsume."

"Urusai, kozu {Shut up, you brats}!" Asuka snapped, causing Tsume and Sanzo to freeze in their tracks, "Sanzo, how much money did you lose?"

"I ... forgot."

"You forgot. That's wonderful," she released both men to retrieve a silk pouch from the chest of her kimono, "Count this. It feels heavy enough to cover our losses."

The pouch was tossed carelessly into Sanzo's hands. Tsume observed it a bit from a distance. The string was frayed at the ends as if it were pulled apart. Sanzo gingerly shuffled his fingers through the coins. Asuka must have pulled it from one of the dealers. Tsume thought to himself that next time he got into a fight, he should do te same thing.

The contents of the pouch were almost exclusively mon. A shu would occasionally poke its face through the mess. Tsume could have even sworn to have glimpsed the lovely visage of a bu. No ryo in sight, but that was probably for the best. Ryo are much too valuable to get gambled on a regular basis. Still, if Tsume knew anything about gambling habits then just a few bu should be enough to mostly replace the small fortune Sanzo had just pissed away.

"I think this will more than cover it," he informed his wife.

"Good," Asuka's hands embraced Sanzo's waist as she smiled love toward him, "You know I worry about you. Your gambling habit needs to stop for Tairo's or Natsuko's sake. I mean I can tell from how you treat Hitsu that you're a great father, but I gave up gambling myself for a reason," her right fingers walked up his chest and rested on his shoulder, "Could you support me? Support our child?"

Tsume thought. Had Asuka not just attempted to gamble on how many men she could beat up? Whatever. Tsume had enough self-preservation instincts to not say anything.

Sanzo's look changed from terror to relief, "I'll do better, Asuka," his hand touched hers, "I promise."

They kissed and touched foreheads. Tsume's eyes rolled. He had spent all day today tracking down that irresponsible lout for that lovely woman. He was in no mood to watch them share intimate moments in the street. He also knew better than to interrupt them. Asuka's pregnancy had made her an emotional dice roll. Perhaps Sanzo could never get enough of playing with the odds against him after all.

"Anyhow, Tsume," Asuka said as she and her husband pulled apart, once again progressing to their home on the edge of the city, "As you may have guessed, I didn't come looking for you because of how long you were taking."

"Actually, that's exactly what I thought."

"Whatever. Arkwright wants to speak with you."

"Did he mention why?"

"Somewhat. He said that he has an important mission for you."

"A mission? Don't you mean an assignment?"

"He said he wants to bring his top three recruits for field training."

"So I'm in the top three..."

"Yeah, what did you think that whole game was? The best student is still just a student. If a student cannot apply his lessons, then what were the lessons for? That's why it's going to be you, Azusa, and Kennosuke."

"Oh great, Kennosuke again."

"You have a problem with him?"

"He's a Kirishitan {Christian}."

"So is Nariko. You never complained about her teaching you."

"That's different. Kennosuke is supposed to be fighting. He can't be a very good Assassin if his God says he can't kill. Besides, he spends so much time praying that I don't know how much can expect from him."

"Tsume, what if I told you that I'm a little bit Kirishitan?"

"Uhh..."

"It's been in my family for centuries. Not all of us, but most of us have been followers of Yesu Kirisuto {Jesus Christ}."

"I see."

"Is that all?"

"Yeah."

"Very well," Asuka started walking again, "Good luck changing Sensei's mind."

* * *

><p>Arkwright paced the floor of his cabin. Before him Azusa, Kennosuke, and Tsume stood in a small formation.<p>

"One of our reconnaissance teams has informed me that a meeting is to take place between Egawa Hidetatsu, Abe Masahiro, Ii Naosuke, and Shimazu Nariakira. They are to meet with Matthew Perry tomorrow at Edo's westernmost post station. Word has it that that it involves a secret temple under Mt Fuji.

Before you think that this is another simple reconnaissance mission, we will be investigating this temple ourselves. We have reason to believe that it is of great importance to the Assassin cause. Do we have any questions?"

Tsume raised his hand, "What is the likelihood that we will be killing on this mission?"

"Extremely high. I understand that it will be a first for all of you. This will also be the the last time I hear that question coming from any of you. We are Assassins. Any other questions?"

Tsume raised his hand again, "Do you really think we need to bring a Kirishitan along?"

"So, you think that Maruya should be excluded from the mission because of his religion. Is that what I am hearing, Washio?"

"No, Sensei," Tsume's shame lowered his face, hoping that he could cover some of it that way, "I only said that Maruya works in the business of murder while he worships a God who takes issue with murder."

"Hm... Maruya, what is your opinion?"

"Nothing," Kennosuke answered, "Kirishitan have never gotten much respect in Nippon. I'm just relieved to finally be around people who won't kill me over it. I promise to fight just as hard as anyone else."

Sensei nodded, "Ishikawa, what is your opinion?"

"Maruya-san won the training game for a reason," Azusa replied, "We need the best and Maruya-san is the best."

Sensei moved his arms behind his back, "Then the mission will take place as planned. Meet Sanzo to receive your novice uniforms. Afterwards, report to the barracks. We begin preparation at dawn. Dismissed."

As they left Sensei's house, fear rose through Tsume's spine. In a way, he felt betrayed. However, their reactions told him that he was the traitor for trying to get his one-sided rival removed from the mission. At least he would soon be done with the walking for today. Maybe tomorrow he could try to regain their trust. For now, he had Assassin business to attend. The Kasai house was a blessedly short walk from Sensei's house. Tsume could feel his feet thanking him for finally coming to the end of the day.

Within the Kasai house, Tsume's eyes widened upon spotting a dozen kimono racks each with the same style of kimono draped neatly from them with the arms out wide. It was snow white with a blood red hem and obi. The hakama was a dull gray, but was covered almost to the knees by the kimono. The crest was the symbol for hito {person} underlined and dyed in red on the front of the shoulders.

"What do you think?" Sanzo asked.

"Are you kidding? It's warui {badass}!" Azusa's eyes bulged as she grabbed one off of its rack, "I can't wait to fight me some Templars in this."

"Actually," Sanzo interjected, "I had yours and Toriyama-san's specially made. They're to the back."

"Oh, okay," Azusa slung the mens' kimono she had just picked up over the rack as she moved to the two in the back, "I still love them!"

Sanzo immediately corrected the kimono, sliding the arms of the rack back into the arms of the kimono whilst cursing probably Azusa under his breath. He checked a small carving on the rack and glanced up at Kennosuke and Tsume, "Well, this one belongs to Shimoda. Kennosuke, yours is to the left. Tsume, yours is to the right."

"Sanzo, how much did these cost you to make?" Kennosuke asked.

"Akuraito-sama paid me very well for these. They cost me more time than anything else... especially since I had to work on them in secret."

"I would hate to be a burden."

Tsume had no idea what Kennosuke was talking about. It was best not to question free things, especially if the cost had already been paid.

"Oh, it's an honor to help the Order," Sanzo replied, "In fact, I'm relieved to finally help someone besides Asuka."

"I heard that" Asuka's voice rang through the room as a door closed behind her.

A provocative look crossed Sanzo's face, "Good."

"We're going to discuss this tone of yours," Asuka said with sex emanating from her voice and her hands gripping the hem of her husband's kimono, "The three of you may want to leave now. By the way, Tsume, I already put Hitsu to bed."

Tsume pulled the uniform from the rack. With it wrapped in his arms, he bowed. As he looked up, he spotted Azusa and Kennosuke stepping out of the house. He looked around again to find Sanzo and Asuka, but they had already disappeared to consummate.

* * *

><p>Tsume fitted his new kimono in his room in the barracks. It was pretty easy to see where the kote {braces} and suneate {greaves} would go. It didn't make much room for other kinds of armor, but anything more would likely be too conspicuous. The hood did not obstruct his vision like he thought it would, even with the beak in front. The hem extended down to his knees, which he felt made him look like a badass. He placed his swords into the side of his obi. It fit just as snugly as his regular robes. The same did not apply to his hidden blade. It fit over his sleeve instead of under. Probably so the blade wouldn't snag.<p>

Then his door opened. He jerked around, his blade snapped out.

"Oh, Moto- erm, Rangiku," he said retracting his blade, "You surprised me."

"That's fine. I hear you have a big mission tomorrow."

"Yeah, I'm excited. Care to sit down?"

"No, but thank you."

"Alright then," Tsume began setting his swords on their rack, "what brings you here?"

"I just wanted to give you a present before you leave. Consider it good luck."

"Certainly. What is. . . Oh. . ."

Both Rangiku's kimono and Tsume's jaw dropped to the floor. She revealed all of the nothing she wore underneath. Her body was as muscular and healthy as one would expect to have after more than two years of Assassin training. Her breasts were only somewhat overwhelmed by her physique. The light was low, but didn't conceal her beauty mark. Somehow it made her more attractive than she already was.

Tsume gulped. He had never even kissed a girl other than Rangiku, and that was only once before. He wasn't even sure how much of that had counted, but it was becoming apparent to him that she had her eyes on him for quite some time now. His gift wouldn't tell him what to do with this present, so he would have to trust his instincts.

She laid herself onto his sleeping mat, gracefully moving her hands from her hips to her ribs. All the while, she gave Tsume an I-love-a-man-in-uniform look. He felt the tightness in his hakama already set to release. He would be a fool to miss this opportunity.

Tsume lowered to his fours over her, still wearing his uniform. He neared her face to kiss her, but she had pushed herself up to meet him. After a quick but tender kiss, Tsume felt her limbs wrap around him. As aggressive as she was, this could be even more fun than he was expecting.

* * *

><p><span>February 18, 1855 in Edo, Japan<span>

Cold water? Tsume bolted out of bed. With a few breaths, his panic had begun to subside. As his panic subsided, he began to notice his surroundings. As he noticed his surroundings, his surprise was replaced with horror. Sensei stood over Tsume's mat with an empty cup in hand. A calm fury was carved into his eyes.

"You complain about Maruya's religion, and then you waste your night inside another recruit," Sensei kicked the novice hakama to the corner where Tsume had cowered, "Now put some damned clothes on. We're to be leaving soon."

"Yes, Sensei," Tsume tried to say as he scrambled to find his furisode and sarashi. He didn't want to be immediately naked under his uniform.

Sensei turned about and passed the threshold of Tsume's room. He tossed an aside glance back into the room, "Toriyama, I can tell you're awake. Get dressed."

After the door slammed shut, Rangiku sat up, her bare back glowed in the soft morning sunlight. "He's better than I gave him credit for," she said with a kind of pride, "No one else can ever tell if I'm asleep or just faking."

"He's a baka {idiot}," Tsume grumbled as he wrapped the sarashi around his gut.

"So, what did you think of last night?"

"I thought you were fantastic."

Her grin spread almost to her ears, "You did pretty well for your first time."

"What makes you think that was my first?"

"I certainly hope it was. If it wasn't, then you have a lot of work to do."

"Hey. What's that supposed to mean?"

Rangiku just giggled. Tsume ran the possibilities through his mind. No way last night was her first, but how many others could there have been? Considering that the recruits weren't even allowed into public until after the training game, she would either have allowed the city of Edo to descend upon her like a ravenous beast or she had been spending a lot of quality time with some of the other recruits. But who? Kennosuke? Fumito? Takanori? No, it couldn't be Takanori. He talks too much about all the sex he allegedly gets with girls who are passing through Edo. Was it even restricted to recruits? Did Joseph teach her how to do that thing with her hands? Wait, if that were true, how could she not be pregnant by now? Probably best not to ask. Tsume fake-chuckled in return.

By that point, he was fully dressed and only needed to equip himself. He stuffed his sword and dagger into his obi and fitted the hidden blade under his left wrist. His hair was tied and he had everything all set to go, but something still felt missing.

"Here," Rangiku flipped the hood onto his head, "I like this look for you."

Tsume caressed her still nude hips, "You don't look half-bad yourself."

"Take care," she beamed with her hand on his chest before giving him a kiss.

"I will. You get dressed."

As he left his room, Tsume was greeted by the presence of Azusa and Kennosuke, both ready and waiting on him. As soon as his heart jumped into his throat, Tsume slammed the door shut. Unfortunately, for him, Azusa caught the door and peeked into the crack. Her big-toothed grin said enough, so Tsume covered her mouth before she had a chance to say anything else. Instead, she squealed glee as her arms wrapped around Tsume.

"What did you see?" Kennosuke asked.

"Don't worry about it," Azusa pried her mouth free and answered for Tsume, "I'll tell you later." Tsume wished she hadn't said that last part.

"Azusa," Tsume interrupted, "don't we have a mission starting soon?"

"He's right," Kennosuke said with a complete lack of enthusiasm, "Sensei is waiting."

Outside, Sensei stood with anticipation holding his arms behind his back. His kimono was black, but still looked very similar to the Japanese Assassin robes. The biggest difference, apart from the color, was that they reached halfway down his shins. It gave him a very imposing demeanor without standing out too much from normal Japanese society.

Garen and Joseph stood motionless at his sides, also wearing the Japanese robes that Sanzo had unveiled the night before. When his fingers snapped, the three recruits moved into formation with Azusa at the center. Sensei slowly traipsed around his students, giving each one a critical eye. Tsume had never known what it was to have his soul burned by disappointment, but Sensei's glare was doing just that. It took everything in Tsume's power not to move. Seeing as how he had let down Sensei twice in less than the span of a day, shame was a very difficult thing to withhold.

Once he had finished inspecting the recruits, Sensei turned away from them. "I expect that you all remember what I told you yesterday about this mission. We only have a few hours before the Templar meeting, but there are things we must cover before we set out.

First of all, just because you have training with a weapon does not mean that you will be using it. In the right hands, any weapon can give you a surprise advantage and turn the mission in your favor. In the wrong hands, overreliance on these weapons can harm you and result in the failure of the mission. You will wait until you have reached the rank in which a weapon is allowed before you may use it in the field.

Second of all, you will be wearing metal armor. Your bamboo training armor was a cost-cutting measure, because real armor is more expensive to replace. You will notice that metal is actually lighter than bamboo armor. You will adjust.

Finally, you will follow my every instruction to the letter. I will not tolerate deviation any more than I will tolerate disobedience. I did not come here from New York to show children that they know better than I do, and I sure as Hell did not come here to get those children killed. Are we clear?"

"HAI, SENSEI," the recruits sounded off.

"Would you care to repeat that?" Joseph jested.

Tsume couldn't see Sensei's reaction under the hood. Joseph, however, could see it all too clearly. Judging from Joseph's straightening response, Tsume was glad to be left in the dark.

Sensei turned back to his recruits, "You have five minutes to say any goodbyes. Dismissed!"

Without a thought, Tsume made his way to the Kasai house and Joseph followed. He already knew where everyone else was going: Kennosuke would visit his mother and Azusa would visit Garen. Tsume wanted to see Hitsu before he left.

Thankfully, Hitsu already stood just outside of Asuka's door. "Hey," Tsume called to them as he removed his hood, "Get over here."

"Tsume!" Hitsu ran to his brother the moment he saw him.

Tsume wasted no time in scooping him from the ground to give him the best hug a brother could give, "Hey Hitsu, guess what."

"What?"

"I'm going on my first big mission."

"Yeah, everyone knows," Joseph intruded, "I also noticed that he seemed a bit angry at you. What did you do?"

"Not in front of Hitsu."

"Oh that," Joseph's face lit up, "Well first of all, welcome to manhood. As soon as you get back, you and I are going to dinner and she can come along... or he? I never was all that sure about you."

"... She..."

"Ah yes. That's my favorite too. Anyhow, you're not going to explain or apologize your way back into Arkwright's heart. You have to do exactly what he says how he says it and do not hesitate. Believe me, I speak from both past and future experience. Understand?"

"Understood," Tsume put Hitsu back down, "Well, you two take care until I get back."

"Hey, one more thing," Joseph embraced Tsume as tightly as he could, "Come back safe."

Tsume bowed and waved as he walked back to where Sensei had dismissed them. Azusa was already in formation, no doubt because she was so eager to get started on the mission that she didn't have much to say to Garen. Kennosuke had just come into view leaving his uncle Junichiro's house, where his mother Nariko stayed.

As they lined up in formation, Sensei's mood seemed to lighten a little. Perhaps it didn't lighten so much that his eyes would no longer cast daggers in Tsume's direction, but at least said daggers were a little less sharp than before. Sensei's arms slid behind his back again, "Before we go to the post station, we are going to visit the blacksmith for your armor. We will only be purchasing kote and suneate. Understood?"

* * *

><p><span>February 18, 1855 at a post station just outside of Edo, Japan<span>

The assassins watched as four men in plain clothes gathered at a table across the room. Tsume believed one of them to look extremely familiar, so he turned on his gift. The gold aura radiating from the men suggested them to be the Templars they were looking for, but Tsume caught sight of something else. The dozen or so men sitting astound them were highlighted red. At first, Tsume thought them to be samurai, but they did not wear the same chomage hairstyle as samurai. They must have been the Templar shinobi Tsume had heard so much about.

"Here is your tea," the waitress said, placing a teapot at the center of the Assassins' table.

"Arigato," Sensei said as he paid her for the drinks. As soon as she had left to tend to other clients, he redirected his eyes to the recruits, "Do you see those four men?" He tilted his head across the room.

"Yeah," Tsume answered in English, "They're the Templars, aren't they?"

"You got it."

"Excuse me Sensei," Azusa said, also in English, "but all of these Templars are native. Didn't you say that Commodore Perry would be here?"

"He will be. They won't go anywhere without him."

"I certainly hope so," Kennosuke worried.

As soon as Kennosuke had finished speaking, an imposing figure darkened the threshhold. It was a very tall man with a sugegasa {straw hat} obscuring his face, much in the same way Assassins used their hoods. Using his gift again, Tsume could identify this man was another Templar. The look on Sensei's face seemed to say that he knew this too. Did Sensei have the gift as well? Wait, if he did, why would Nariko still say that it was unique to Tsume and herself? Was she trying to keep a secret?

The figure approached the Templars' table with his left hand resting over his sword's pommel. He was certainly saying something, but Tsume couldn't discern it. What he could discern was part of a face that looked hauntingly familiar and very white.

"That's Perry," Sensei informed his students.

"He doesn't look very happy," Kennosuke commented.

"I would say not. He's never been one for patience."

The Templars stood without even placing an order. The pudgy Templar's dismay was evident in the way he rubbed his belly, but he was ignored. Without any further delay, they left the station, probably to visit Mt Fuji.

"Listen up," Sensei said, "We are going to follow them. Perry won't be holding the meeting on the road. He'll wait until they are in a safe place away from any possible spies. We will be following far enough away so as not to arouse their suspicion. If anyone asks about us, we are a group of ronin. Understand?"

"Yeah, I understand, but will they believe that?" Tsume chipped in, "I mean, you're white."

"And Ishikawa is a woman. Hence, ronin."

"Azusa looks more like a miko with a hood than a ronin."

"If anyone asks, and they won't, we'll just say that she's a miko ronin."

* * *

><p><span>February 18, 1855 at the foot of Mt Fuji<span>

Mt Fuji was particularly beautiful tonight. Snow draped nearly the entire slope of the mountain, illuminating the world with the light of the full moon. Everything showed as plainly as if it were day except, of course, the white of the Assassin recruits' robes.

The Templars had taken shelter in a small house at the bottom of the mountain while the Assassins hid behind a particularly large rock about a hundred yards away. They needed to stay about an hour behind to keep Templar eyes averted. The meeting was beginning and they still needed to get closer to hear anything.

Tsume could see men moving in and out of an opening in the mountain for what must have been some kind of a mining operation. Something about the entrance to the mine seemed odd, though. It looked as if it were deformed by something.

Tsume used his gift to better assess his surroundings. All of the so called miners glowed red. A small army of samurai had gathered at this location. Many passed through the operation, but only about ten or so patrolled the road while two guarded the Templar shack. Even if they were as rusty as Sensei said, the Assassins were vastly outnumbered. So long as they didn't bring any attention their way, they should be fine, but this was already looking bad.

Still, the look in Sensei's eyes held a kind of cunning that gave a kind of hope. "Ishikawa, you create a distraction," he pointed to the samurai along the road between the mine and the shack, "Maruya and Washio, you will kill the samurai guarding the house. Then, you will impersonate said samurai. As soon as they're in position, Ishikawa will return here and she and I will spy on the meeting."

"Wait, why me?" Kennosuke objected.

"You're right, Maruya. You and Ishikawa create the distraction while Washio and I kill them."

Tsume began to laugh, but Sensei's judgmental leer scared the humor out of him.

"No," Kennosuke objected again, "I'll kill them."

"I thought so," Sensei still scanned the area, "Ishikawa, move out."

Azusa nodded and moved around the rock, exposing her presence to the samurai. "Excuse me," she called, approaching them with her sword overhead, "Did someone lose a sword?"

She and the samurai hadn't met until they were beyond earshot. On an insect-free winter night like this, Tsume half expected to be able to hear across such a great distance.

Sensei, however, didn't appear quite as interested in what Azusa was doing to suppress unwanted samurai attention. He patted the rock to make sure Tsume and Kennosuke were focused on him, like they should have been. "Maruya, Washio, move out," he said pointing to the pair of samurai guarding the small building.

Tsume and Kennosuke slipped out from behind the rock. Sensei had not specified just how to kill them, but neither had he specified how Azusa would distract them. Safe to assume that everything was permitted. Wait, Sensei also said to impersonate the guards, so as little damage to their robes as possible would be ideal.

As silently as could be done, the two recruits crept onto the porch of the building. Tsume could hear the Templars debating something, but he wasn't particularly interested in them at the moment. The Assassins stopped at the corner to assess the situation. Both samurai were facing away from the building, wide open to any potential attack.

Tsume glanced up at Kennosuke, who had ejected his hidden blade as a suggestion. Tsume silently agreed by ejecting his own. Now came the matter of how to kill them. If they moved too slowly, they would risk raising alarm from the guards they wanted to kill. If they moved too quickly, they would risk putting Azusa into danger from the guards she was distracting.

Azusa must have been able to see her allies, because she got the samurai to turn all of their eyes on her and away from the building. Tsume took the initiative to strike. He quietly dashed to the first samurai, thrusting the hidden blade into his neck before gently placing him onto the porch. The next samurai had witnessed this spectacle and would have raised the alarm, but Kennosuke managed to kill him in time as well.

Tsume took a relieved sigh, but the blood on his hands struck him. It was not accusatory like he had half-expected, but rather it was triumphant. Tsume did not know what injustices this man had committed, but now he would answer for them. Tsume smirked, standing over the fallen samurai. For the first time in his life, he felt a sense of fairness in this world.

Kennosuke did not appear to share the sentiment. He knelt over his target, closing the samurai's eyes and apparently drawing a cross for him. After a short and silent prayer, Kennosuke stood to face Tsume.

Tsume crossed his arms and looked away. "I hope you don't plan on doing that every time you kill someone," he whispered.

"Not every time," Kennosuke answered, "but the dead deserve their last rites."

"Rites? What have samurai done to deserve anything?"

"They enforce the peace. These men were not evil; just doing their jobs."

"They push us around to make themselves feel better. They don't get my respect."

"I'm sorry you feel that way."

"Whatever. We still need to get rid of the bodies. I say we throw them under the house."

"You can't be serious."

"Do you have a better idea?"

Kennosuke sighed, "No, I suppose not. How do you think we should impersonate them?"

"We take their haori {coats}. How else could we impersonate them?"

"I was really hoping you wouldn't say that."

As Tsume removed the haori, his mind drifted off again. What had this samurai done to deserve this? How many innocent lives had tested his blade? How many waitresses had he harassed to avoid paying for his food? His haori was definitely that of a skilled swordsman. How many homeless did he starve to achieve that rank?

"Hey!" an unfamiliar voice called in the distance, "What are yo-"

Azusa managed to kill a samurai who had spotted Tsume and Kennosuke. Unfortunately for her, this alerted all of the samurai around her. Fortunately for her, Sensei was watching. As quickly as he appeared, Sensei had entered the fray and begun cutting down samurai. From this distance, Tsume could barely discern the things that Azusa and Sensei were doing to the samurai that made them fall so quickly, but it was no less impressive to watch. The spectacle calmed in less than a minute. Azusa had maybe killed two or three men out of more than a dozen. Sensei had handled the rest with both grace and efficiency.

Tsume glanced to Kennosuke, whose focus was absorbed by the violence he had just witnessed. Tsume brushed his shoulder to get his attention.

"I think we should check on them," Kennosuke answered.

"No. We have orders," Tsume slipped the haori over himself, "We need to hide the bodies. You grab his shoulders," he requested as he lifted half the samurai's ankles from the puddle of blood.

As they threw the samurai under the porch, Tsume felt the pride of his first kill alleviate ever so slightly. He wiped his head for sweat. As childish as it was, Tsume wished that Joseph- no, his parents- could have witnessed the justice he had just delivered.

Before assisting Kennosuke in disposing of his own samurai, Tsume glanced over the road. Azusa had taken an understandably triumphant strut. Sensei kept his pace deliberate as usual.

Sensei's hands signaled for the Assassins to regroup on the road. Tsume and Kennosuke obeyed the command. Upon coming closer, Tsume noticed Azusa wiping blood from her hands into the red of her obi. Her eyes were even brighter than when she spotted Rangiku in Tsume's room.

"Guys, did you see that?" she quivered from trying to contain herself, "How awesome was that?"

Tsume grinned, "You did great. I'm impressed."

"Our plans have changed," Sensei said, "For once, they changed in our favor. Washio, give the haori to Ishikawa. You and I will spy on the meeting. Ishikawa and Maruya will stand guard."

"Wait, why do we need-" Tsume shriveled from his master's glare, "Hai, Sensei."

Without a word, he passed the haori to Azusa, noticing that it had already left a sizable blood stain on his left shoulder. A frigid breeze pressed the cold blood into his skin, but the chill subsided shortly thereafter.

Sensei nodded, "Move out."

He and Tsume silently crept around to the outer wall facing away from the mountain, while Azusa and Kennosuke had taken their positions guarding the door. Tsume pressed his ear against the wall, and the muffled voices became much clearer.

"Well that depends on what you want them to do," one voice said in an American accent definitely belonging to Commodore Perry.

"We need them to fear the foreigners, because right now, they don't. They think that the treaties from Kanagawa last year have already been ratified. Have you seen our merchants? Their booths are filled with merchandise from Chuugoku {China}."

"I fail to see how that concerns me."

"We don't know how many of these goods are actually imported and how many are made here in Nippon {Japan}. Those who sell forgeries have technically done nothing wrong."

"Technically? You mean to tell me that you are willing to let a stupid little legal loophole weaken your grip? No wonder no one fears you."

"That is why we need your help, Perry-sama."

"What have you done to establish your dominance?"

"Um... Sometimes, we will have samurai arrest merchants who sell Chuugoku goods."

"And that hasn't stopped anyone, has it?"

"We're afraid not."

"So what do you do to establish that your dominance?"

The Japanese Templars failed to answer."

Perry sighed, "Do you remember my weapons demonstration in Edo harbor three years ago?"

"Hai, Perry-sama."

"Think big like that. Show the people exactly why you are in charge, and they will fall in line. You only have one thing to watch out for after that."

"What is that?"

"Assassins."

"We have already hired shinobi. In fact, they are guarding us right now. The Assassins won't be any trouble."

Tsume checked over his shoulder for shinobi. During the Sengoku, they were a team of Assassins, but some kind of falling out with their sensei had turned them Templar. They had managed to survive all the way into the nineteenth century, still using Assassin techniques against their former brothers. Tsume really didn't want to be dealing with those guys right now. He hadn't seen them since leaving the post station, but that brought no reassurance.

Perry laughed, "You seem to be under the impression that these are Japanese-trained Assassins who use training your shinobi are familiar with."

"Well, aren't they..."

"No. They've been trained by a man named Charlton Arkwright and just in case that name doesn't ring a bell, let me tell you exactly the kind of man Charlton Arkwright is. My brother Oliver was one of the most decorated captains in the United States Navy's very brief history. He led nine campaigns in a single war; all of them successful. Anyone who had met him said that he was the bravest man they had ever seen. He was killed on his own ship by a lone Assassin. Charlton Arkwright was that Assassin, and I happen to know that he is in Japan."

One of the Templars gave a nervous laugh, "You cant be serious. No way he's capable of bringing us down."

"Just two months ago, I received positive identification of several Assassin recruits running free through Edo. They were playing a game that condenses all of their training into a single moment. And they all showed exceptional proficiency at what they were doing. Now, how this information has slipped past your ears, I may never know. Understand me when I tell you this: the Assassins are dangerous. Do not underestimate them."

Just then, a hand clasped Tsume's mouth from behind, dragging him away from the wall. A dagger flashed in the moonlight. Tsume blocked the attack and bit the hand that silenced him. As it released he tasted something odd. It was both sweet and rotten. Trying not to think too hard on it, he turned himself to face his attacker... well, attackers. Four of these men stood armed and ready for a fight.

Judging from their dress, they were not samurai. They wore black robes with both kote and suneate. Their faces were obscured by a black cloth wrapped around everything but their eyes. These were definitely shinobi.

Tsume readied his sword, but Sensei had already taken to the offensive. He skewered the first shinobi with his sword. Another tried to attack, but had his throat cut. Tsume charged into the fray. Another shinobi was stabbed in the skull by Sensei's hidden blade. The last tried to flee, but Tsume pounced upon him. As his hidden blade pierced deep into his enemy's skull, Tsume glanced upward.

Shinobi began dropping from trees, drawing their swords. Most looked like the he had just fought, but one dressed in full armor. To say it was like samurai armor would be misleading. This armor gave the fearsome visage of an oni {ogre}. Had Tsume believed in oni, he would have been more frightened. Then again, they were still dropping from the treetops which was scarier than any oni could be. Tsume tried to swallow, but the sight was becoming too much to handle.

The armored Shinobi straightened himself and blew into a horn. The thunderous noise perforated Tsume's ears as it echoed throughout the area. Tsume needed no more proof that the Assassins' cover was irretrievable. Kennosuke and Azusa ran to Tsume and Sensei's location. Samurai poured from the opening in the mountain. No matter where Tsume looked, he couldn't find an escape route. Now would have probably been a good time to use those weapons Sensei had not authorized. Tsume drew his sword, ready to fight to his death.

"Sensei, offensive or defensive?" Azusa asked.

"Offensive. Escape to the temple to create a choke point. Follow my lead."

Sensei charged against the samurai. The recruits followed shortly after. Tsume didn't care that Arkwright was a Master Assassin. He knew this was suicide. Anyone would be a fool not to know. Still, Tsume had received his orders.

As Tsume got closer, he gripped his sword tightly. Some samurai carried naginata {poleswords}. As long as he could bypass their blades, he would have an advantage. Others carried nodachi {greatswords} and yet others carried kanabo {maces}. Both of these weapons required two hands and could easily throw a less experienced warrior off his balance with ease.

One samurai stabbed his naginata at Sensei, but was pulled in and killed. Another tried to attack Tsume, but he repeated Sensei's technique. Another samurai stood open, so Tsume rammed his sword through his gut. One samurai attacked with a kanabo, but Tsume ran a hidden blade into his neck. Another kanabo struck Tsume by the hands, sending his sword flying. As Tsume shook his hands to try to ease the pain, the kanabo came again, this time aiming for the head. Tsume sidestepped it, simultaneously breaking the samurai's arm and disarming him. With his new kanabo, Tsume bashed the samurai across the head so hard that his helmet caved.

Another samurai came with a katana as if his fallen brothers hadn't made any kind of impact on him, though it certainly made an impact in that last samurai. He was blocked by Tsume's kanabo. Tsume then swept the samurai from the ground before crashing the kanabo into his chest. A samurai came from the side with his sword swinging, but the kanabo rose to meet his groin before coming back around on his head.

Tsume checked his surroundings. He was both cut off from the other Assassins and surrounded by samurai. The shinobi were nowhere in sight, but there was no way that could be good. The entrance to the temple was still too far away. He dashed for the distorted entrance to close the gap. He pushed and kicked samurai instead of taking the time to kill them. His eyes never lost sight of the goal, even if he never seemed to get much closer to it.

Suddenly, a smoke surrounded him. It began burning his eyes. Tears tried to push it out, but it was useless. The air he breathed felt like fire rushing from his nose to his lungs. He tried to cough it out, but that was just as useful as crying. His knees hit the ground. As the smoke cleared, a black figure stood before him. As badly as he wanted it to be Sensei, he knew it was a shinobi. Soon, the shinobi's hand covered Tsume's mouth and nose, bringing the return of the rotten sweet smell. Spots blacker than the shinobi had begun to engulf his vision and blot the white of the mountain until nothing could be seen.

Tsume's consciousness returned when he felt himself painfully reunite with the ground. He tried to look around, but everything was still dark. Had his gift been activated involuntarily? No, his eyes were just still closed. He found it strange that it would take him so long to realize that.

When they opened, he saw that Azusa, Kennosuke, and Sensei were also present, but all appeared extremely discontent sitting on their knees. Tsume tried to get up to help them, but his arms and legs were bound tight.

"Charlton, I'm surprised that you were brought to me so quickly."

It couldn't be. His heart choked when he saw the figure. Commodore Perry stood tall over them.


	7. The Temple of Doom

February 18, 1855 at the foot of Mt Fuji, Japan

"The other Templars have left, but don't worry," Perry paced before his captured Assassins, "I don't plan to kill you," he grabbed Azusa's mouth, "No, you are all much too pretty for that."

Azusa spit onto the Templar's hakama. Perry showed his appreciation by smacking her to the ground. Tsume had nothing to say to Perry. He had killed Tsume's parents just to get a warehouse. Anything Tsume had to say to him could only exacerbate the situation.

"You leave her alone!" Kennosuke yelled.

"You see," Perry ignored Kennosuke, "I need something from you."

"What could you possibly want with us?" Kennosuke questioned through clenched teeth.

"We have been aware of a temple under Mt Fuji for years, but no one has been able to even open the door. While I watched you fighting the samurai, I got an idea. Maybe what lies at the end was not meant for my hands. Maybe it was meant for someone else with a specific set of skills. Now, Charlton, did you not call this one 'Ishikawa?'"

"Ishikawa Azusa," Azusa returned to her knees.

"As in Ishikawa Goemon?"

Azusa's eyes narrowed, "What about him?"

"Would you believe me if I told you that he has seen the end of this temple?"

"Shut up and get to the point."

"Tiago Lopes' journal says that the descendants of his team would return here. Are you descended from Ishikawa Goemon?"

"What if I am?"

"Then you will have made me a very lucky man."

"And where do we fit in?" Kennosuke asked.

"Not you. Just the girl," Perry faced Azusa again, "I want you to go into that temple," he leaned closer to her, "and I want you to bring me whatever you find at the end. If you accept, I promise to spare your Mentor and your little friends."

"What if I told you to go fuck yourself?" Azusa gritted.

Perry stood again and motioned to Tsume, "Osamu?"

The shinobi in the heavy armor began to move toward Tsume. Each step paused Tsume's breath. Before he could try to think of any course of action, Osamu's fist struck Tsume's face, sending him to the ground again. He squirmed to try to get back up or do something to fight back, but it was hopeless. Osamu's foot rammed into Tsume's gut, causing him to spit the blood that already splashed across his tongue.

"Stop!" Azusa yelled, "Leave him alone!"

"Osamu!" Perry ordered, "That's enough," he motioned to Kennosuke. Osamu started for his next victim.

"Azusa!" Tsume yelled from the dirt with blood running down his chin, "Azusa, do what he says!"

Osamu's shin smashed into Kennosuke's jaw. "No!" Kennosuke cried out, "Don't do it!" Osamu hammered Kennosuke's face into the dirt.

"She'll do it," Sensei didn't yell, but his voice rang clear.

"Osamu, stop," Perry crossed his arms as he approached his old enemy, "Go ahead, Charlton. You have my undivided attention."

"I'm sure you remember the names of Tiago's team. Ishikawa Goemon, Sarutobi Sasuke, Kirigakure Saizo-"

"Kasai Yuzuru and Tiago Lopes. Get to the point."

"Maruya over there is a descendant of Kasai and Washio is a descendant of Sarutobi."

What? Tsume couldn't even summon words for that. Never in his life had he even dreamed that his own ancestor could have been the legendary Sarutobi Sasuke. Wait, how could Sensei know? He could be trying to pull a fast one on Perry, but Tsume had no idea where he was going with this.

"That's impossible. There's no way they could all be here."

"I specifically chose them because of their bloodlines."

"Then where is Saizo? Where is Lopes?"

"Washio also comes from Kirigakure and I'll give you three guesses for Lopes."

"I know for a fact that you do not come from Lopes. His kin in the States never moved further north than North Carolina."

"I'm not from the States, remember?"

Huh? Of course he was. He kept talking about New York and Massachusetts like they were the greatest places ever. Garen, Jack, Virginia, and the Kent brothers were all American and they came with him.

"Toronto is still further north than the Carolinas."

"It was York then. You should remember."

"Oh, I do. I also know that you will not see the inside of that temple because you," Perry drew a revolver from his side, "are my bargaining chip," he aimed for Sensei, "The three of you are going into that temple. You have until dawn to bring me whatever you find at the end or I will leave your Mentor's brains in the dirt," the gun cocked, "If you do not return, I will kill him. If you return empty-handed, I will kill you all. If you try to fight us back, I will kill him first, then the rest of you will join him. Are we clear?"

"What if we need weapons?" Azusa asked.

Tsume felt his wrist for his hidden blade, but only felt cloth. The shinobi must have taken it along with his kote while he was incapacitated. He glanced at his obi, but his sword and dagger were gone as well.

Perry shrugged, "Oh well."

Kennosuke joined, "You must not want… whatever it is… so badly, then."

"Yeah," Azusa continued, "No one has seen the end of that temple since the Sengoku. Who knows what kinds of things we'll need to get there?"

Perry's lip snarled, "Fine. Osamu will join you. Men, cut them loose."

Tsume felt someone lift him from behind until he could stand on his own with his feet bound. At the same time, he saw shinobi raise Kennosuke and Azusa. He felt a jerking motion between his wrists. Every movement inched toward his palms ever so slightly until the ropes fell off. A quick swipe from behind severed the ties on his legs.

He examined his hands just in case he had checked wrong before. He hadn't. They had been stripped of both his armor and hidden blade. A torch was passed to him, which he accepted. Perry wasn't kidding about that whole 'no weapons for Assassins' thing, but at least he had some kind of something. Maybe he could set someone on fire, but that would take too long. No, this was too inefficient to be a proper weapon.

Careful not to make any sudden moves, Tsume walked cautiously toward Kennosuke and Azusa. His heart pounded louder with each step. The last thing he wanted to do right now was get everyone killed.

He contemplated on how this situation could be turned in his favor. Perry had a gun on Sensei, who was bound. The Assassins needed to retrieve something or risk losing him. Still, even if they did retrieve it, how could he be sure Perry was being honest? How much of any of this could possibly be sincere? There was only one way to get an answer to anything, and it was in that temple.

Tsume stared at the entrance which had no doubt been warped by previous volcanic activity. Why had it only been warped? How had it not been sealed off completely? Had the Templars been digging here? How would they know it was here? They obviously did, but how? The broken legs of a Shinto arch sat before it. What happened to the arch?

"So, are we ready?" Kennosuke asked.

"Dawn isn't going to wait for us," Azusa answered.

"Good thing it's a winter night."

Kennosuke had an air of solemnity about him. His hand pressed into his chest, no doubt praying with his mother's rosary. Still, something seemed different about this prayer. His eyes were open and his mouth did not move.

Azusa's demeanor was somewhat similar. For once, she didn't appear terribly thrilled to be an Assassin. Her eyes jumped around the area, calculating some kind of an exit.

Tsume took in a deep breath. When he released it, a small but thick cloud of breath appeared and evaporated before his face. He began walking to the twisted entryway, brushing Azusa and Kennosuke's shoulders as he passed them. From the sounds of the footsteps behind, they had chosen to join him, but another series of steps could be heard. Probably Osamu.

Something about the opening stopped him. It was bigger than expected, but that wasn't what bothered him so much. From here, the opening looked like the mouth of an enormous fish. He did not want to feed this monster much more than he wanted to obey these Templars. Not much more, at least.

A prodding came from behind. It couldn't have been Osamu. It was too gentle to be Osamu. Tsume didn't want to find out what Osamu would do if he got impatient, so he stepped into the sacred mountain's maw. What was the worst that could happen?

The initial appearance of the temple was that of a cave. Tsume had never been in one before, but this was not how he had imagined them. As bright as the night was outside, one would expect more of it to have seeped into this place. Instead all he could see beyond the torchlight was the dark.

"This is just a cave," Azusa said aloud, "This can't be the temple. Are you sure you have the right place?"

"Shut up and walk," Osamu said with a very deep but obviously disguised voice.

Normally, Tsume would make some kind of snide remark like 'So he speaks,' but the sheer bleakness of the situation had killed his sense of humor. Best not to argue with the only armed man around. Wait, the Assassins had been trained in unarmed combat against armed opponents before. Hell, he had done exactly that hours ago. No. Perry would want to see Osamu alive before handing over Sensei, assuming he planned on holding his end of the bargain in the first place. Even if he were to try to fight back, disarming an opponent requires two hands. Tsume could try fighting a skilled anti-Assassin, but that would just get him killed. He would need to get behind Osamu. Perhaps if-

"Wait, this is it?" Azusa asked.

They had come to the end of the tunnel. The only thing Tsume could see was a large unimpressive stone dead end. It reached to every visible end of the cave, but something seemed off about those edges. Tsume knelt closer to the bottom. There was no mortar, but this wall was too perfectly fitted to have been added into the cave. It seemed to be part of the mountain, but it was most definitely constructed here. If anything, it seemed like the wall had always been here.

"Good luck with that," Osamu added, "None of the samurai have found anything."

Tsume looked back again. Osamu stood still before the last trickles of outdoor light, forming a kind of otherworldly glow about himself. Kennosuke and Azusa examined the edges along the sides of the cave. If only Tsume had some way to just know what to- oh right.

Tsume shut his eyes and drew a breath for a moment to activate his gift. He could feel his senses drifting as the sounds of his companions faded away while also becoming clearer. When his eyes opened, the view became much clearer. The walls were now completely invisible even with the torchlight, but at least the other people were easily identifiable. Azusa and Kennosuke shone blue while Osamu was red; nothing out of the ordinary.

"Azusa is right," Kennosuke posited, "There's nothing here.

"Keep looking," Osamu replied.

Tsume turned back to the wall. Something sparkled on it like shiny new metal. It was a perfect diagonal line. Tsume's finger traced it upward until it split into two lines. He continued to follow one line until it bent and began moving downward.

He stepped back a bit to get a better view. It appeared to be a picture of Mt Fuji. Above the peak appeared to be a drawing of smoke. To the left of that was a circle. Possibly the sun? Something seemed a bit odd about it. A very faint hand print filled the circle. Tsume tried to reach it, but he was too short. His palm could only barely reach the edges.

"Kennosuke," he said aloud, "Come here."

"What is it?"

"I think I found something, but I can't reach it."

"Do you know what it is?"

"I don't, but I think I know what to do. You should be tall enough to reach it."

"Okay," Kennosuke placed his hand on the wall, "Show the way."

Tsume took Kennosuke's wrist, guiding it upward along the lines. When he had covered the hand print in the circle, Tsume let go. A white light began from the top of the circle and soon spread to the bottom. Kennosuke jerked his hand from the circle as quickly as he could.

"Nanda kore {What the Hell}?" Azusa interjected, "Do that again."

Kennosuke began to stutter, "I-I-I … What was that?"

Tsume grabbed Kennosuke's wrist to some resistance. Tsume grunted, "I don't know, but you do need to do that again."

"Okay, but … but … Okay."

Kennosuke relaxed his arm. Once again, Tsume guided it to the circle, this time not letting go before the light reappeared. Once again, it filled the circle. Tsume could feel Kennosuke trying to pull away, but pressed harder in response.

The light had begun to flow down the lines of the smoke. When those lines ended, it traced the peak of the mountain until it reached the base. Tsume's gift had shut off, but he could now see the drawing without it. Oddly enough, the light was illuminating nothing but the drawing itself.

The wall opened from the bottom with a massive grinding sound. The torchlight revealed a large wooden pillar in the center of a very tall room. Azusa stepped in first, slowly spinning to examine the area in astonishment. Osamu pushed Tsume and Kennosuke, who had apparently not moved the entire time.

"Iku ze {Move}," Osamu commanded.

Tsume complied. Inside, the wooden pillar supported a spiral stairway that reached higher than the torches would allow to be seen. Splinters and boards littered the ground, indicating that the staircase was not as sturdy as its appearance would suggest.

That same grinding sound from seconds ago appeared again. Tsume jerked around just in time to watch the giant stone door coming down into its place again. Apparently, the only chance they had to escape from this place was at the top of those stairs.

Tsume turned and advanced to the stairs with the intention of finding the exit as soon as possible. Hitsu needed his brother. Tsume would need to figure out some way to turn the situation to his favor. From behind, he could hear the others follow. Ahead, he could see a gap in the stairs. The flickering light of the torch made it difficult to judge, but he made the jump anyway. From the air, he watched in dismay as his reach passed so far beneath the lowest board that-

"OW KUSO {DAMMIT}!" Tsume landed a story below.

"Are you okay?" Kennosuke called from above.

"I'm fine. A few bruises won't kill me." His knee and left hand were scraped, but neither was bleeding very badly.

"Uh, Tsume?" Azusa pitched in.

"Yeah?"

"You're on fire."

"Huh?" Tsume checked himself for fire, but the heat that grew on his left arm gave away its hiding spot, "Chichichi {Shitshitshit}!"

Tsume batted the embers on the sleeve until they extinguished. As he took a relieved sigh, he realized that he had dropped his torch. He reached to the step behind him to pick it back up. To his horror, the stair had caught aflame. He stomped the fire to quell it, but only managed to break the board. His leg filled in the gap left by the board pretty well. While he pulled himself out, he couldn't help but to wonder how brittle the rest of the stairs could be if that one broke so easily. This was not his idea of fun.

Tsume took in another breath, "Alright anyone else have any bright ideas?"

"It looks like we're going to need two free hands to get anywhere. I could try throwing my torch across the gap and then climbing the central column," Azusa answered.

"Yeah, that's a great idea. Throw the fire onto wood. We all just saw how well that can work."

"Maybe you could get across and Kennosuke can toss your torch to you."

"Saiko {Great}, throw fire at me. That sounds even better."

Tsume shook his head. Azusa was right. It was really their best option. They couldn't risk abandoning their only light source and there was no way of knowing how big these gaps could be without them. Judging by how much wood littered the floor and steps, probably too big.

With his torch in hand, Tsume returned to where the others waited. To his dismay, Osamu kept his back to the wall. He obviously wasn't going to tolerate an Assassin behind him.

Azusa handed her torch to Tsume. "You stay here," she informed him, "I'm going to try climbing the column."

Tsume took the torch and Azusa began. She moved a few steps down and slid onto one of the column's arms which supported the stairs. It made a very uncomfortable creak when her second foot left the steps. She balanced herself very well as she approached the column. With a short jump, she latched herself to the center. She climbed the pillar about two yards and took hold of the next arm. She dangled for a while before switching sides. From there, reaching the stairs again was a simple matter.

"Alright Tsume, my torch please."

Tsume hesitated for a moment. This felt like a bad idea for so many reasons. Tsume didn't really want to imagine them all. Then again, he didn't really have any other choice. He launched the torch across the gap. Azusa tried to catch it, but missed. It hit the wall, bouncing off and rolling onto the stairs just above her. She managed to retrieve it without any trouble.

"Okay, we just need to do that three more times," Azusa said as she wiped the sweat from her brow.

Tsume looked to Osamu. That Templar was the weak link in this chain, even if he was the most experienced. It would be best not to leave him with a singular Assassin. Simple math would make that inevitable. As far as Tsume could tell, this was going to be tricky.

"Tsume, you go next," Kennosuke said.

"Are you sure? You'll be alone with him."

"I know, but I'd rather you not get stuck with him."

"Are you sure?"

Kennosuke snatched the torch from Tsume's hand. It was pretty hard to mistake that certainty. Tsume just nodded.

He leapt from where he stood to the pillar in the center. His arms and legs wrapped around like a monkey on a branch. He hadn't lost too much height from that, but the scrape on his hand stung hard. He did his best to ignore it and climb above the next arm. Even a small injury like a scrape could doom him if he were to hang from it like Azusa had. Once there, he launched over the beam and onto the stairs. The board underneath him caved a little from the landing, so he stepped off of it as quickly as possible.

"Alright, Kennosuke. I'm ready."

Kennosuke threw the torch. Tsume managed to catch it upside-down. He was more thankful that he hadn't caught the flame.

Azusa got closer to the edge, "Kennosuke, your turn."

"Oh no," Osamu interrupted, "I'm not going to be the last one across."

Tsume leered at the shinobi. Of course not. That would only give the Assassins a chance to progress without him. As much they loved having a Templar watching their every movement, leaving Osamu behind would be ridiculous.

He shoved his torch to Kennosuke, who reluctantly accepted it. He dashed diagonally up the wall. As soon as a he had begun to lose elevation, he jumped toward the stairs. Somehow, he had managed to grasp the edge and pull himself onto the stairs. Kennosuke threw the torch without prompt. Osamu managed to catch it perfectly, placing his back to the wall the moment he did.

"Hey guys," Azusa said with a great deal of worry in her voice, "We have a problem."

"What is it?" Tsume responded.

Azusa pointed her torch upward. Wooden splinters and debris had littered their progression. It wasn't necessarily obstructive where it had landed so much as from where it had fallen. A good half of the next level had long ago collapsed onto the level where they stood. Still no sight of the end.

"Is something wrong?" Kennosuke called from below.

"Yeah," Tsume answered, "This is going to be a lot harder than we expected."

"Okay then. Someone catch my torch."

"I will," Osamu replied.

Kennosuke tossed it upward, once again resulting in a perfect catch. He then lowered to the arm Azusa had started from. He ran up the beam and latched on, pulling himself on top of the upper arm. Joining the others and reclaiming his own torch was easy enough from there.

Upon reaching the next gap, they stopped again. It was exactly as big as Tsume had expected it would be, but it was about twice as high as Tsume had hoped. His hand was not looking forward to climbing that.

Azusa stepped forward. She apparently was about as thrilled as anyone else. Kennosuke extended his hand to offer a place for her torch. She passed it over and turned back to the pillar's arm. She gingerly stepped upon it and wrapped her limbs around the beam. After climbing for a few yards, she came around until Tsume could only see her hands and feet. Soon enough, those disappeared as well. Tsume's only comfort was not seeing her fall.

"Okay, guys. I made it," Azusa appeared from across the pillar with her arms open for a torch. Kennosuke threw it her way, but apparently not far enough. It fell below, bouncing off of a wall and landing so far down as to make it irretrievable. The light was too dim to see Azusa's expression, but Tsume could guarantee that it was her that-did-not-just-happen face.

"Should I try again?" Kennosuke asked.

"Yeah," Azusa answered expressionless.

Kennosuke threw his own torch, but Azusa received the same result again. Tsume checked the floor below to see if the torches had stayed lit. They had stayed lit, but not quite in the way that they should have. The boards around them had taken very kindly to the fire.

"Uh guys, I don't think light is going to be an issue much longer," Tsume warned.

"Why not? Oh-" Azusa was frozen by horror.

As the fire spread, Tsume caught the scent of smoke trickling upwards. He crossed over to Azusa first, careful not to break any beams. When Kennosuke was halfway across, he called out to the others, "Go on! I'll catch up!"

Tsume nodded. By now, he could see the smoke rising faster than the fire. He checked the floor again. The flames had already swallowed the first level and were encroaching upon the pillar. Tsume was beginning to sweat from the heat. Waiting would only get everyone killed.

Azusa had apparently already taken Kennosuke's advice. She was good enough with thinking on her toes to be the guide through this impending death trap. The next few levels were fairly stable, though, so her skills were not an immediate necessity. He hoped that it would stay this way.

The smoke was growing thicker and filling Tsume eyes and lungs. He wiped tears from his eyes to clear his vision, but the coughing couldn't be stopped. At least the flames had finally unveiled the ceiling. The problem was that they were not yet halfway up and these stairs were only going to get more treacherous. Whatever awaited them at the end of this place had better be worth all of this effort.

Azusa bounded gracefully over debris from above and the pits that they left. Tsume followed shortly after, not checking behind for Kennosuke or Osamu. Kennosuke would almost certainly make it. Osamu definitely would and Tsume feared that.

The smoke was now thick enough that it was harder to breathe than it was to see, even through the tears. Tsume was beginning to have a hard time distinguishing where the sweat ended and the tears began, but that was more reason to push to the end. He wiped the moisture from his face with his sleeve so he could continue to the top,

Azusa ran along the wall to avoid a short gap. Tsume did he same, but the step collapsed beneath his feet upon landing. His arms instinctively grabbed the next board, praying that it would hold.

"Azusa!" he called.

She turned back in response. As she grabbed his arms, he got a glimpse of her face. She may have been tearing as well, but it was hard to see under the sweat. She was strong enough to lift him, but progress was slow. Tsume felt around with his feet for something he could push off of, but there were no support beams near him. He could see that she was trying just as hard as he was to find a way out of this mess.

"Tsume, kick off the wall!" she yelled.

Tsume's let foot pushed off the stone wall, giving him just the momentum needed for Azusa to lift him out. Tsume crawled to his knees as Azusa sat for a moment. Even with the fire several stories below, the cave was getting too hot to handle much longer. Azusa sprung to her feet and began moving upward again. Tsume decided it best to keep pace with her.

Two stories up, a part of the staircase hung precariously low. Azusa ducked under it and turned about. Her feet had disappeared by the time Tsume had crawled under it. She was now about halfway up this- Wait. Tsume jumped back as it collapsed on top of Azusa.

"Azusa!" he knelt down, "Are you okay?"

The thing had completely covered her. Tsume tried to free her from under the wreckage, but he wasn't strong enough. He made another attempt, straining every muscle in his upper body.

"Azusa! Can you hear me?"

No answer. Tsume grabbed the wood again, this time pulling up from his legs instead of his back. He needed to throw it into the pit. It could screw up a lot of things, but Azusa needed to survive this.

"AZUSA HANG ON!"

It flipped over too easily. Tsume looked up to see who had assisted him. Kennosuke had saved her. That wasn't important. Tsume landed to Azusa's side. He gently raised her head with his hand on her stomach.

"Are you okay?"

Azusa's eyes pried open. Already, she was staring at Tsume and Kennosuke like they were madmen for their concerns. She sat up through gritted teeth.

"Keep moving!" Osamu yelled. He must have just caught up to them.

Tsume lifted Azusa by the shoulders. The way she hissed announced the pain she was suffering. Tsume wanted to know how much, but Osamu apparently didn't have the patience to wait for him to find out. Then again, patience is no virtue when one is escaping fire.

Azusa managed to balance herself on her own feet. With her arms crossing her ribs, she once again led the way. The others followed shortly after. She crossed a small gap with the same grace that she had all along, but the landing appeared to be too much stress on her. She would fall on her knees and pause for a moment. Even with the smoke filling his lungs, Tsume had not needed to do that.

Soon enough, they had ascended to the same part of the stairs that had crushed Azusa earlier. No hesitation. She ran the wall to get to the other side. This time, her legs collapsed under her causing her to give a very pained grunt upon touching down.

Tsume crossed the gap and knelt over her, "Azusa, we need to keep moving."

First, she began to crawl forward by her arms. Then, she began crawling from her knees. Then, she returned to her feet, clutching the sides of her chest again. She had an admirable drive, but Tsume feared it wouldn't be enough. She may even have just indirectly killed everyone in this room.

Azusa fell again. Tsume knelt over her again. Her face was turning as white as her robes; at least as white as they were when the mission had started. All of the wetness on her face made it hard to tell if tears were running or if it was just sweat, but Tsume had felt both coming from himself. Whatever his assumption, it wasn't important. Azusa needed to breathe. He checked around the room in a vain attempt to find some hope he fully expected to have long abandoned this fiery Hell. Much to his surprise, they were now near the top. Only one gap a few levels up remained in their path.

Tsume rolled Azusa to her back. With all of his -apparently unnecessary- strength, he lifted her into his arms. "Azusa, can you hear me?" Tsume said before he pulled her hood off with his teeth.

"Yeah, I can hear you just fine."

"We're going to make it. Okay?"

"I know that." She was obviously trying to be sarcastic, but her dazed demeanor made it hard to believe.

As they approached the gap, Tsume laid Azusa down. It was too wide to jump with her in his arms. Tsume checked behind. Kennosuke and Osamu were fast approaching.

"Hey!" Tsume called to them, "Could one of you carry her across?"

"I can do it myself, you baka {idiot}," Azusa weakly pulled herself to a sitting position.

"I don't trust that."

"Ugh. Trust me. I'm fine," Azusa jerkily propped herself back up by using the wall to support herself.

"Hey," Kennosuke slowed to a stop, "Azusa, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Azusa blatantly lied.

"I can carry you."

Tsume shook his head, "You wouldn't make it. Osamu, could you carry her?"

Osamu crossed his arms, "No. No Assassin gets behind me. Besides, this armor is heavy enough. Just leave her. She's a burden by now."

"No," Kennosuke shoved him, "She's coming with us."

Osamu grabbed Kennosuke's hand, "Don't you dare touch me again."

A redness began to spread from Osamu's hand where he held Kennosuke. Tsume's eyes widened. Was Kennosuke bleeding? As Kennosuke pulled away, Tsume could hear the sound of cloth and flesh tearing. Kennosuke pushed his hands against the wall to kick Osamu into the burning pit. Tsume looked to see where Osamu landed, but pulled away once the smoke had gotten into his eyes again.

"Why the Hell did you do that?!" Tsume yelled, wiping tears which had become indistinguishable from the sweat on his brow.

"He's a Templar," Kennosuke removed his hood, "he was going to kill us."

"Okay guys, I have an idea," Azusa interrupted, "First of all, Kennosuke, that was awesome. Tsume, you jump across first. I'll jump after you. You catch me, okay?"

"Okay," Tsume was relieved that Azusa had already come to terms with her current state.

"Also, Tsume, you'll need to guide Kennosuke again."

"Why?"

"Look at the door."

It was a perfect replica of the door that led to this room. Although Tsume had never mentioned his gift to anyone other than Nariko, Azusa must have been able to determine that only he could have seen the opening before. He would have stopped to ask questions, but it was getting harder to see through the smoke. Wasted time would get them killed.

Tsume leapt the gap. It was just short enough to catch the ledge with his whole arms instead of his fingertips. Azusa was next. She jumped. Tsume reached for her right hand, but missed. He did, however, catch her left by the wrist. Her right arm reached out again. Tsume caught it and pulled her from the inferno below.

Azusa's face contorted in agony he raised her over the ledge. She must have broken her ribs. Once her knees were high enough, she pushed forward. She had landed on Tsume, but quickly rolled off with her hands seemingly trying to keep her chest from flying off of her body. Her grunts were, by the stretch of no one's imagination, still extremely disconcerting, but at least the Assassins were near the end.

Tsume managed to clear enough space for Kennosuke to cross. He didn't stop to watch him, but Kennosuke's sounds indicated that he had managed his trip alive. Tsume activated his gift. As Azusa suspected, it was the same kind of door as in the cave before.

Kennosuke, shrouded in blue light, offered his clean left hand to Tsume. Tsume looked back at the image on the door. It was Mt Fuji again. Just as before, it requested a left hand in the sun.

Tsume didn't ask to grab Kennosuke's bloody left arm, but that didn't stop him. Kennosuke grimaced a bit. Tsume expected as much from grabbing an open wound, not that either of them was enjoying this, Tsume could feel the blood and flesh in the rips on his arm, but ignored them as he led Kennosuke to the sun in the picture.

Once again, the lines filled with light. Tsume motioned for Kennosuke to go ahead as the door roared open. He didn't have time to admire the pretty lights again. The fire was getting closer, and Azusa couldn't be left behind.

With Azusa cradled in his arms, Tsume followed Kennosuke into the next room. It was cool and the air was not smoke. Right now, those two virtues made it paradise. Tsume gently set Azusa with her back to the floor and her head against the wall before falling himself. He could already feel the fresh air rushing into his body and cleansing his mind.

February 19, 1855 inside Mt Fuji

Tsume's eyes came open. He was still covered in sweat, but not nearly as much as before. A dryness had filled his mouth. His eyes were only slightly irritated now. He rubbed them anyway as he sat up.

The room was a bamboo forest. Tsume stood up to examine it. The feel of the leaves said that it was definitely real. Somehow, in the back of his head, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had been here before. Light came down from the sky. Wait, the sky? Something felt off about this sky. Perhaps the fact that Tsume could see the sky through the snow-capped mountain without feeling the wind was so odd.

"Welcome back," Kennosuke said from behind.

"What just happened?"

"You passed out."

"How long?"

"Not very long. Maybe an hour at most."

Kennosuke appeared to be inspecting a makeshift bandage on his arm. Judging by the look of his kimono, he had torn the hem so he could have something to close the wound. Tsume never would have guessed that it was ever part of the kimono because it had been completely stained red with blood.

"That looks bad," Tsume pointed to Kennosuke's gash.

"It's just a flesh wound. I've had worse."

"I doubt that. It looks pretty rough."

"Only a scratch. It'll scar for sure, but I doubt it'll hold me back."

"Say, how the Hell did he do that to you?"

"I don't know. It felt like he had claws. Like a ... like a tiger."

Tsume couldn't see how that was possible. Osamu's fingertips were always visible, and he had no claws to be seen. Regardless, if this place were the end of the temple, then the Assassins would need to find a new exit and hopefully have the world's best excuse for the death of Osamu. Then again, Perry would not have much reason to keep them alive anyway.

"So, any ideas for exactly what kind of place this is?" Kennosuke asked.

"Not a clue."

"I have an idea," Azusa grumbled, "I think it may be a legend, but I need a better look."

She tried to push herself from the floor. Her strained grimace did not inspire much confidence. Kennosuke took her by the arm to raise her from the floor.

"Are you familiar with the tale of Princess Kaguya?" she asked. Of course she would be the one to relate this situation to a story. In many ways, stories defined Azusa's life. The only reason she even left the life of nobility and joined the Assassins was so she could be like her heroine, Tomoe, or people like Sarutobi Sasuke and Hattori Hanzo.

"You know I never cared much for old stories," Tsume answered.

Azusa rolled her eyes, "Well, the story goes that Kaguya was found in a stalk of bamboo."

"That would have to be some big bamboo."

"She was only this big," Azusa held out her thumb, "Urusai {Shutup} and let me finish. Anyhow, the bamboo cutter decided to keep Kaguya. She eventually grew into a beautiful -normal sized- woman with silver hair. Now, word spread about how pretty she was and this caught the attention of five princes. She gave each prince an impossible task to bring back some item, and they set out to achieve them. The first three princes returned with very expensive fakes. She was neither fooled nor amused. The next two died on their quests."

"So, what does that story have to do with this place?" Kennosuke asked.

"May I finish? Please?"

"Yes, I'm sorry," Tsume wasn't really sorry. If he knew Azusa, and he did, she was going to start using her dramatic pauses again.

"So, Kaguya was greeted by the Tenno {King} of Nippon {Japan}. He immediately fell in love with her and wanted to marry her. She turned him down because the Tenno can only marry someone from Nippon whereas she was from … the moon! The Tenno kept trying to win her affection, but she kept refusing because she would eventually need to return to her home on … the moon!"

"No impossible task for him?" Tsume interrupted.

"Erm, trying to win her affection. That was impossible."

"That's stupid. Your story is already ridiculous," Tsume began to wonder what Azusa would do if he started to fall asleep during one of her dramatic pauses.

"Well, if you let me finish, I can get to the important part."

"Fine. Fine."

"Okay, so Kaguya was a princess on the moon, but had been sent to Earth as a form of punishment. Now, before you ask, I don't know what she did. The story doesn't elaborate. I didn't write it."

Tsume was going to say something, but shut his mouth to allow Azusa to continue.

"So, she asks the Tenno which mountain is the closest to … the moon! TSUME WAKE UP! He takes her up this very mountain. Yes, Fuji-san. Before she leaves, she gives the elixir of immortality to the Tenno. He throws it into the crater because he doesn't want to live forever without her. The smoke from the mountain was supposed to symbolize his eternal love for her, but Fuji-san has long since stopped smoking. It's a really old story. Anyhow, that's why we call it Fuji {Immortality}."

Words failed Tsume. That was one of the dumbest and most pointless stories he had ever heard. How that could possibly relate to this place, Tsume didn't think he could ever understand. Bamboo and Mt Fuji were extremely normal things.

"I think what Tsume wants to know is how that story connects to this place," Kennosuke commented.

"That's what we're going to find out," Azusa said, "Tsume, how did you know how to open that door?"

"I … saw a picture."

"No one else saw the picture until Kennosuke touched it."

"It had a hand print in the sun, but I couldn't reach it."

"What if that wasn't the sun, but the moon?"

"That would mean that … are you saying that story is true?"

"No, but I think it's related to this place."

"Good, because it was stupid."

Azusa glared at Tsume, apparently not fond of his cynical remark.

"Alright Azusa," Tsume spoke up, "What does your wonderfully gripping story suggest we do?"

"Call me crazy, but I think we're supposed to find Kaguya."

"You are crazy. How are we supposed to cut bamboo without blades? Osamu had blades, but Kennosuke had to go and kick him down the fire! Now we're like... thirty kinds of fucked and no one has any ideas!"

Kennosuke cracked his knuckles, "Akiramenai {Never give up}."

He punched the bamboo, but nothing happened, much to Tsume's lack of surprise. He punched again with his other fist, this time causing the bamboo to flatten on its side. He punched again with his first fist, causing the bamboo to fold. He then grasped the top half and pulled the stalk apart. Nothing inside.

Tsume shook his head, "Great. That means that we just have to do that again FIFTY THOUSAND TIMES!"

Azusa's palm covered her eye, "I don't see you coming up with anything!"

"Oh! I have something! I have something good!"

"Fine, then show us!"

Tsume popped his neck and loosened his arms. He shut his eyes to activate his gift. With a deep breath, he opened his eyes to-

"Gah! Kuso {Shit}!"

Tsume clutched his head to try to relieve the pain of comprehending what he had just seen. It was unlike anything of this world, but its malice could not have felt more real. Tsume wasn't even sure if his eyes had actually seen anything, but he had certainly sensed something spiteful.

"Tsume, are you okay?" Kennosuke's voice sounded.

"Yeah," Tsume lied as he returned to his feet. He had apparently fallen to the floor. His head ached as if an axe of pure hatred had been lodged into his skull.

"You sure? Your nose is bleeding."

"Yeah, what just happened?" Azusa joined.

Tsume was incredulous, but wiped his face anyway. He was a little surprised to feel something wet under his nose. Kennosuke was not wrong about the bleeding. How the Hell had that gotten there? Tsume felt his nose again with his other hand. Yep, bloody again. Tsume could no longer feel the hateful presence, but he knew it was still here. It had to be. Wherever it was, Tsume did not want to be.

"I don't know. It was definitely something," Tsume answered, "and it isn't happy."

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind. Let's find this princess," Tsume tried to mask his fear, "Azusa, what does the legend say about the bamboo she was found in?"

"Not much," Azusa answered with a worried tone that sharply contrasted her earlier frustration, "Just that it was mysterious."

Tsume was not pleased.

"The room isn't that big," Kennosuke responded, "It can't possibly take us very long."

Tsume was a bit relieved. Any bit of information that he could use to create some distance from this angry room was beyond welcome. Tsume wiped his bloody nose onto his sleeve and proceeded searching for an oddity among the bamboo.

Two hours later

Tsume had grown tired of searching for an oddity among the bamboo. He would have used his gift, but he felt that anger run a chill on his spine whenever his eyes closed. Frankly, he wanted to avoid that thing as much as possible. In fact, the only reason he was still here was because of some stupid-

"Hey guys, I think I found something," Kennosuke called.

"Oh, already? Well, you were right. That didn't take very long at all," Tsume responded.

"Tsume, you maybe should try spending less time with Joseph," Asuza commented. Tsume just ignored it.

Apparently, Kennosuke had found a swollen bamboo stalk. It was something Tsume had seen earlier, but had overlooked. The fact that some slightly deformed bamboo stalk mattered only made this den to be even more stupid and horrendous than it already was.

"Kennosuke, you know what to do," Azusa posited.

Kennosuke punched the stalk above the bulge until it flattened and folded just as it did earlier. When he ripped the bamboo apart, something fell from the bulge. It was a... giant gold mon? It was circular and had a circular hole in the center, just like a mon. Tsume picked it up and examined it. It was about the size of his palm with five lines reaching from the center to the edge. This place just kept getting weirder.

"Azusa, any ideas?" Tsume asked with the ring held to her.

Azusa took it with the hand she wasn't using to hold her ribs. She carefully examined the coin by rotating it between her fingers. She bit onto it before handing it back.

"Yeah, I have no idea, but it's probably important," she said as she resumed to both arms nursing her chest, "You guys should check the walls. It's our best shot."

Kennosuke nodded and followed along the wall. Tsume did the same in the opposite direction. As he proceeded around the perimeter, he couldn't help but to look up at the stars again. They seemed to be moving with him. He paused. His eyes traced up the wall to where it ended and... these were not real stars. They were the ceiling, but somehow the ceiling had managed to create its own starlight and moonlight. Tsume no longer pondered what manner of place this was, but rather how any place so impossible could be. Could the kami {gods} be responsible? Could that have been what hated him so much? No, Tsume couldn't think of any kami who could have a grudge against him.

Tsume slowly started to walk a-

"Tsume, I found something," Kennosuke said.

Tsume came to Kennosuke's location, eager that it could possibly grant an escape. Kennosuke's finger traced around a small depression in the wall that circled around a smaller relief. It was about the size and shape of the giant mon, so Tsume placed it in.

A light much akin to the Fuji doors shone around the ring. It took a different shape than the mountain, though. It began to look like... Nippon {Japan}? The lights continued to spread until a map detailing the shapes of other places Tsume recognized from his studies as the shorelines of Kan-Koku {Korea}, Chuugoku {China}, and Indo {India} had covered the wall. Strange symbols were scattered seemingly randomly about this map. Tsume was unsure of what they could mean, but Azusa probably knew.

"Those symbols must represent the challenges Kaguya gave to the princes," Azusa posited.

"How can you tell?" Tsume asked.

"Look at Indo. It has a bowl symbol. Kaguya asked one prince to retrieve the Buddha's bowl. Now look at Chuugoku. That must be the cloak of the fire rat and the jeweled branch of Horai {Beijing}. So the two in Nippon must be the dragon's jewel and the cowrie."

"So, what do we do now?"

"I don't know," Azusa shrugged.

"Wait," Kennosuke spoke up, "Where is the Tenno?"

Azusa pondered for a moment, "Fuji-san."

"I have an idea," Kennosuke put his fingers to the giant mon and twisted it until the lines illuminated. They shot from the center to the five symbols of the princes' challenges. The Assassins all stepped back as the map faded into the wall, leaving only the five lines and a ring of light.

The wall soon began to silently and smoothly tilt away from the room until it landed flat and became part of the floor. Before the Assassins waited another staircase, this time straight, short, and made of stone. Tsume would need to thank the Kami later. Halfway up these stairs was a small altar. At the top was … sky? Snow seemed to have piled along the bottoms of the walls as if this place were recently opened. Tsume could once again see his breath and feel the bitter chill of the wind on his face. He never thought he could be so happy to see the winter like this.

Not wanting to stay in this room with whatever vengeful spirit dwelled within, Tsume was the first to the stairs. His first step illuminated lines that flowed upward with the same strange light. His next step lit the face of the stair before him. His next step did the same as the second. It continued like that until he had reached the altar. Atop the altar must have been his prize. A sheet of parchment? That was it? This was what Perry wanted to badly?

"So what is it?" Azusa asked over Tsume's shoulder.

"It's bullshit."

"What does it say?"

"You read it," Tsume tossed the parchment over his shoulder, "I've had it with this place."

"I think it's in English," Kennosuke said bewildered.

"Let me see," Azusa stepped in, "Are you sure about that? It doesn't look like any English I've ever seen."

"I'm pretty sure it is. Look at the letters. They're English letters."

"Yeah, but these words don't make any sense."

"Maybe it's a code."

Tsume threw his head back, "Codes are great and all, but we really need to be leaving so Perry can kill us."

Kennosuke tucked the mysterious parchment into his kimono, "How are we going to explain what happened to Osamu?"

"'Oh, we're so sorry Mr Perry. We didn't mean to kill your shinobi, but he kinda made us do it.' Yeah, that's a perfect answer. He's going to kill us anyway and we can't fight back because Osamu was the only one who had any weapons and Kennosuke ruined our chance to take any from him."

"We'll put up a fight anyway," Azusa chimed, "We can fight unarmed."

"Azusa, look at us. You can barely breathe and Kennosuke has a bad arm. I'm the only one here in any fighting shape. We are royally fucked no matter what we do. Besides, we don't even know where we are on Fuji-san."

"Then why don't you check?"

"With pleasure."

Atop the stairs, Tsume realized where he had come. He was not just above stairs; he was above the mountain. The whole world lay below him. Somewhere down there, a dangerous Templar awaited their return with Sensei's life in his hands.


	8. Take a Breather

February 19, 1855 atop Mt Fuji, Japan

Tsume scooped a handful of snow and pressed it over his face. It was colder than Tsume normally liked, but it was nice to finally feel some water after that hellpit in the temple. He grabbed another handful of snow to eat. Tsume could feel his thirst being satiated as the snow melted in his mouth. Dehydration would no longer be- Ow, brainfreeze.

"Oh wow. I feel like queen of the world up here," Azusa said as she climbed the stairs out of the temple.

"So, where can we find Sensei?" Kennosuke added.

"There was part of a torii {arch}in front of the cave," Tsume answered.

"So, we just need to find the torii."

"More like whatever is left of it."

"SENSEI!" Azusa yelled, producing a massive echo, before grasping her chest in agony, "Remind me not to do that."

Tsume closed his eyes to use his gift, but fear persuaded him otherwise. He could still feel that menacing presence from earlier deep in his core. Even if it meant walking around Fuji until dawn, Tsume was not ready to face that thing again. Instead, it would probably be best just to try to find the arch with his regular eyes.

Tsume scanned the view from the mountain for a flicker of flames and a band of samurai. What he saw instead stole his breath. A cloud was passing below him. From up here, he could see all of Fuji's five lakes. The moon still hung in the sky, giving all of the distant snowy mountains a mystical type of glow. Behind Tsume, a bowl shape was seemingly cut from the mountain. He had heard of the crater before, but never believed that his own eyes would get to see it.

It was then that Tsume noticed the remains of a massive torii laying before the exit of the temple. It aligned with another, still complete, torii far below. In the distance, Tsume could spot the night lights of Fujiyoshida, a small town that the Assassins had bypassed while tracking the Templars. The entrance to the mountain would have been south of that town, which meant that the Assassins would only have to descend straight ahead. With all of these things in mind, spotting the smoke of Perry's fire was easy enough.

Tsume sighed in the freezing mountain air, "I know where to find Sensei."

"Do you think Perry will be there?" Kennosuke replied.

"I can guarantee it."

"Then let's go."

"Yeah, how?"

"Um," Tsume hadn't thought of that. They would certainly have to expect a fight at the end. While the path looked to be smooth, that could actually be a problem. The snow could pack into ice and he had always heard that Fuji's slopes were as fine as sand.

Azusa's broken ribs made her the weak link now. Tsume or Kennosuke would have to escort her down. Tsume was more capable of escorting her. Then again, while Kennosuke's arm could make him less capable of handling Azusa, it would definitely make him less capable of combat. Tsume would give anything for an easier answer right now.

"Kennosuke, do you think you can help Azusa down the mountain?"

"Perhaps. Here, Azusa," Kennosuke lifted her arm over his shoulder.

"KUSO {SHIT}!" Azusa jerked her arm back. Apparently, Kennosuke had forgotten how much he towered over everyone else present. Tsume, on the other hand, was no taller than the plainly average-height Azusa. The burden was apparently going to have to fall to Tsume.

"Azusa, we're going to have to get down this mountain somehow," Tsume cautioned.

"Yeah, I'm aware, but there has to be another way."

"I'm not seeing any other options. Now, if you'd like to go back through that temple and down that staircase we burned, then be my guest."

Azusa rolled her eyes, "What was your plan again?"

"Well, you hang onto me, and we'll walk down."

Azusa alternated between biting her upper and lower lip. She looked around at the other two Assassins while silently nodding her head. She then approached the slope of the mountain with contemplation deep in her eyes. Very cautiously, she lowered herself until she was sitting in the snow. Then, without any warning, her arms pushed her body down. She had made sacred Fuji-san into her slide.

Whether it was fear for Azusa's safety or desire for efficient travel or how flat-out fun that looked, Tsume found himself wanting to do the same. He glanced over to Kennosuke, who seemed a bit less excited. Tsume smiled and nodded. Kennosuke did not return either. Undeterred, Tsume jumped out and landed his back on the slope. The icy air nipped at his eyes, but he was able to manage. This was somehow more exciting than it looked when Azusa had done it. While he half-expected to break his tailbone on a rock, the snow had made everything smooth enough to move quickly. He didn't appreciate how the snow was riding up his kimono and getting his sarashi wet.

Up ahead, Azusa had slowed to a stop. Tsume tried to slow his pace by jamming his feet into the mountain, but it was too smooth to make much of a difference. He made a little more progress by kicking, but only a little. Gradually though, his efforts were rewarded and his speed slowed to a crawl and soon enough a full stop only a few yards above Azusa.

"Hey, are you okay?" Tsume stood up and wiped the snow off the outside of his kimono. The inside could wait.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Azusa winced a bit, "Do you really think we can do it?"

"I don't know. Do you think Sensei is really worth it? I mean, you were right back in the temple. We don't stand a chance if Perry wants to kill us, but we already have what he wants. Would Sensei want us to give up something like this?"

"Yeah, he's our Sensei. He has to have a plan to deal with the Templars. I mean, he convinced Perry to send us together."

Despair dropped Tsume back into the snow. Once again, the cold flooded him with an odd sense of relief. That relief was forced back out by his own dread.

"It's a trap," Tsume informed Azusa, "Perry is going to kill us."

"No he won't. Sensei wouldn't have sent us in if he didn't have a plan."

"You say that like he had a choice."

"What makes you so sure that Perry is still down there?"

"As I recall, Sensei was tied up and alone. I doubt he could escape that."

"Never compromise the Brotherhood. It's the third tenet of our Creed. He wouldn't put us in danger if he didn't know he could save us."

"Sure. Okay."

"Sensei would never break the Creed."

Kennosuke sped down the mountain, not even slowing his slide to reconvene with the others.

"Even if it's a trap, leaving him behind would be compromising the Brotherhood."

Azusa was right. Too many fellow Assassins depended upon Sensei for training and leadership. Leaving him to die without a fight would break the third tenet.

"So, do you need a push?" Tsume asked.

"I thought that was a given," Azusa flipped her hood back on.

Tsume pushed her by the shoulders and jumped forward himself. As he began sliding again, he noticed how his speed continued to increase. At this rate, and with Sensei's fire as a beacon, they would be at the base in no time.

Three hours later

'What took you so long?" Sensei greeted his recruits at the base of Fuji-san. He was not tied. No samurai or shinobi or Templars stood about. Many laid dead, but Perry was not among them. His bonfire had been reduced to embers by now. It revealed the picked bones of a small animal among the ashes.

"Um, I think a better question would be: 'How did you do this?'" Tsume answered.

"Yeah," Azusa added, "Please teach us how to do this."

"Fundamentals," Sensei replied, "Did you find anything?"

Kennosuke removed the parchment from his kimono, "We did."

Sensei snatched it from his student, "Very good. Very very good."

"If you don't mind me asking, what is it?"

"It's part of the journal of Tiago Lopes."

"Who?" Azusa asked.

"He was an Assassin in Japan during the Sengoku. He worked with a team of Assassins and and this journal will tell us where to find a very special treasure."

Tsume shook his head, "So this whole thing is over treasure? Aren't the Templars already super rich? What good will they get from treasure?"

"This is not that kind of treasure. You'll understand soon enough, but right now we need to rest and get ready for the Templar's next plan. How is everyone holding up?"

"Kennosuke got his arm torn and Azusa broke her ribs."

"And you?"

"I scraped my hand," Tsume showed his palm, "By the way, I have a question for you."

"Ask away."

"Am I really descended from Sasuke?"

"Fuck if I know. Maruya comes from Kasai, but that's the only one I know for sure."

"Actually," Azusa interrupted, "I really am related to Goemon."

The group grew silent with their eyes on Azusa. If what she was saying were true, then Perry and Sensei were right about what the journal said about descendants. No, that couldn't be possible. There was no way some dead guy could have predicted who would have gotten into the temple two hundred years later.

"Not how you think. His brother Kazumasa was my ancestor," Azusa continued.

"Wait, Ishikawa Kazumasa?" Sensei interjected.

Azusa sighed, "He worked with Toyotomi."

"Toyotomi Hideyoshi, the Templar shogun."

"I guess. I have no idea, but Goemon was my inspiration to become an Assassin. I guess there is more to the story than I thought. Sensei, why is Goemon so important to this place?"

"During the Sengoku, a young man named Tiago Lopes sailed from Portugal to Japan. He joined the Assassins and sought to find a great treasure. He traveled with four other Assassins: Ishikawa Goemon, Sarutobi Sasuke, Kirigakure Saizo, and Kasai Yuzuru. I don't know much about them. We don't know where they searched or if they moved the treasure. All we know is that they found what they were looking for."

"Sensei," Kennosuke tugged a corner of the parchment so he could see some of it, "What kind of code is this? I know these are English letters, but they don't make sense."

Sensei's eyebrow peaked, "The first layer of code will be simple enough. It's called 'Portuguese.'"

"Portuguese," Tsume contemplated aloud, "You mean the empire that wanted to take over Japan? They have a special code?"

"Well, it's a language. There is a code, but I'm not good with codes. Even if we can translate it into English or Japanese, it won't make any damned sense. Virginia should be able to crack it, so I'll deliver it to Nagasaki," Sensei rubbed his brow, "Before we go, I want you to be armed."

"You got our weapons back?" Kennosuke asked with an odd kind of skeptical optimism.

"No. Just pick up some weapons from the samurai. They won't be using them any more."

Tsume broke into a proud smile. He wanted to say that he approved of Sensei's suggestion, but it was not his place to approve of anything. Instead he crouched over the samurai corpse nearest to where he stood. He recognized this corpse. It had a massive dent in the helmet that Tsume had made with a kanabo. No man with a wound like that would need his swords any longer.

"But Sensei," Kennosuke protested, "There is no honor in robbing the dead."

"When have we ever cared about honor?" Tsume posited as he tucked his new katana and wakizashi into his obi, "We are Asashin {Assassins}. Honor isn't exactly a priority."

"I agree with Kennosuke," Azusa added, "We don't know what kind of condition these swords are in. I say we wait until we get back to town and purchase new swords. Besides, handling the dead is bad luck."

"These are good!" Tsume held up the swords he had just stolen. Azusa and Kennosuke both stared disapproval at him as if he needed a special brand of audacity to be so eager with thieving a corpse. "Anyone?" he offered, "I mean, some of these swords have to be better than the swords we-"

"No!" Kennosuke objected, "Those weapons were gifts from my jisan {uncle}! I'll go without until I find them."

Sensei's sword flashed through the air in front of Kennosuke, forcing him to take a step back.

"Can you block THAT with your hands, Maruya?" Sensei sheathed his blade.

Kennosuke regained his focus, "You trained us to fight unarmed."

"I know that. I don't remember training you to question orders."

"No, you trained us to be Asashin."

"Don't make me regret it," Sensei stepped into Kennosuke's space. While Kennosuke was the taller of the two, Tsume could almost see him shrinking into Sensei's shadow.

Kennosuke closed his eyes and whispered, "I'll need some help." He raised his left arm to show that it was still bloody and torn.

Sensei nodded, "Washio, help him."

February 19, 1855 in Fujiyoshida, Japan

A man crossed the street from his office to a soup shop. A cursory glance at his singular longsword and cropped -but nowhere shaven- hair identified him as a doctor. He must have been getting his lunch. Sensei pointed to him through the unusual lack of a crowd. Tsume suspected that he knew what Sensei wanted him to say.

Tsume had never seen a place where industry was a spotty hum rather than a constant flurry. Yet here he was, standing in the midst of his first small town at the tender young age of seventeen. The emptiness of the avenue reminded him of rainy days in Edo. People had a tendency to drop things they carried as they escaped a little water from the sky. Oftentimes, it was food they would leave scattered in the road. Tsume always enjoyed rainy days for that reason. This was a cold day in the sun, so Tsume would have to pay for his food here. Pity.

The smell of pork and vegetables barely managed to plow through the chilly air to Tsume's nose. Much like the rest of the town, this tempura stand was only barely a step above desolate. Two patrons sat on the stools, but the stand was deigned to accommodate at least ten. Tsume would have forgiven it for this, but it was much bigger than the average Edo tempura stand and appeared to be one of very few such places in town. It should have much more business at this time of day.

"Excuse me," Tsume bowed, "You are a doctor, correct?"

"Call me Hanamoto-sensei {Dr Hanamoto}," the doctor peeked over his shoulder, "Is there something you need?"

"I scraped this," Tsume showed his left palm, "I think I bruised my ass sliding down Fuji-san."

Dr Hanamoto overlooked the hand entirely, "Keep the hand clean and you won't get an infection. As for your butt, try not to sit for extended periods of time."

"Thanks, doctor," Tsume bowed a little.

A concern crossed the doctor's face when he got a good look at Tsume, "What happened to your shoulder?" His chopsticks pointed to the bloodstain on Tsume's kimono.

"I got into a fight. The blood isn't mine."

"Oh, okay. You have a nice day," the doctor took a bite of his pork tempura and returned his focus to the stand.

"Actually, I have more."

Hanamoto's hand jutted into the air to pause Tsume and allow himself time to finish chewing.

"My friends need your help," Tsume continued as soon as the doctor swallowed.

"If they take a seat in my office," he pointed to the building across the street, "I will be with them as soon as I've finished my lunch."

"But Azusa broke her ribs."

Dr Hanamoto dropped a few mon onto the counter, "Hachi, I need to take care of a patient. I'll bring back your basket once I'm done with her," he faced Tsume with the small tempura basket in one hand and his chopsticks in the other, "Where are they?"

"This way," Tsume led the doctor away from the stand and up the road where the other Assassins waited. As expected, Azusa held to her chestlike she was trying to keep it from exploding. Kennosuke's makeshift bandage had already soaked as much blood as it could hold and was staining the road with spots of a very dark brown. Sensei's scrapes looked exceptionally clean and minor by comparison.

"You didn't tell me one of your friends was a gaijin {barbarian}," Hanamoto said with a strange tension.

"Ignore me," Sensei commented in Japanese, "My students need treatment. I do not."

Hanamoto slowly nodded and pointed to Azusa and Kennosuke with his chopsticks, "The two of you come with me," he then glared at Sensei, "My services are not open to gaijin," his elbow touched Tsume's cleaner shoulder, "You should go take a bath in the hot spring. It's just around the corner down the road. Welcome to Fujiyoshida."

With that, Dr Hanamoto guided Kennosuke and Azusa into his office, leaving Sensei and Tsume to stand in the cold. Tsume looked down. Apparently the doctor had dropped a piece of tempura from his basket. Tsume picked it up and dusted it off.

"Surely you're not going to eat that," Sensei half-warned.

"Surely I am," Tsume ate the pork. It was still warm from the fryer. Juice squeezed out onto his tongue. It was a fine piece of pork; perhaps the best pork Tsume had ever eaten. He smiled to Sensei, "Are you hungry?"

"No, but you are. Grab something you can eat on horseback."

"What do you need me to do?"

"Take some horses and go back to Edo with Garen. Inform Kasai and find out what the Templars are doing there. I'll catch up when Maruya and Ishikawa have been diagnosed."

"Garen is here?"

"I told him to meet us here in case something went wrong."

February 19, 1855 on the road to Edo

Tsume's ship crashed into a rock on the coast. He stepped onto the scorched shore, careful to avoid the boiling remains of the sea. The smells of salt and death were intensified by the heat of an expanding sun. He ran through a whithered brown field to find the moon and end the heat. The sun was drawing closer until it tore open Tsume's eyelids.

"Kuso, I'm awake!" Tsume yelled. He must have fallen asleep on horseback while Garen was nearby. Considering Garen's relative lack of stability, that was most decidedly unsafe.

"You really are turning into Joseph," Garen retorted. He had not been in one of his good moods lately. That wasn't always a negative and today was hopefully one of those better days. His mood had peaked at grouchy thus far, but Tsume did not want to risk anything that could push him into more violent territory. Tsume needed to remember to kick himself later for dropping his guard around Garen.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Tsume flipped his hood back over his head.

"You say that like it's a good thing."

"He's higher-ranked than you."

Garen did not answer that with words. Rather he gave Tsume the same look Sensei had given him the morning before. The rest of the trip was the sound of hooves and ashamed silence. Tsume really wanted to ask Garen how Sensei had gotten out of his situation, too.

February 28, 1855 in Edo, Japan

Tsume came to the training ground where his fellow recruits (save for the wounded Azusa and Kennosuke) had gathered in formation before Asuka and Sensei. Tsume had finally replaced his hidden blade just a day before, but he still carried the swords of those samurai which were riddled with subtle defects he hadn't noticed before. He needed to remember to get them fixed sometime soon.

"The Templar Egawa Hidetatsu has made his move," Sensei announced, "He began burning Japanese books an hour ago."


	9. Where There's Smoke

**February 28, 1855 in Edo, Japan**

Sensei pointed to Tsume, Fumito, and Rangiku, "And you three will go with Kasai to the temples of Asakusa. Understood?"

"Hai Sensei!" the three answered in unison.

Asuka glanced over her shoulder through the yumi {bow} and quiver across her torso, "Well, let's get going. Those books won't save themselves."

Not more than a block into the heart of Edo had Tsume noticed a bizarre lack of crowds. Naturally a few people were still around. The man at the sushi bar was still keeping his business open. An old woman was walking her dog. Yet no customers or grandchildren were anywhere to be seen.

The Assassins had not traveled another two blocks before Fumito spoke up, "Oh this is going to be awesome! It's our first big assassination! I've been waiting for so long to do this that I put together a list of different methods we could use."

Tsume perked his brow, "You act like you're going to enjoy this."

"Why wouldn't I? This is what we've been training to do for years."

Oh right. Fumito is annoying. Tsume had been removed from him long enough that all of his agitating tendencies had been pushed far back into Tsume's mind. Tsume needed to come up with something to say to quiet him, "Have you ever killed anyone?"

"No, but how hard could it be? Stick them with the pointy end."

"That's the goal, hai, but your options are going to depend heavily on the situation. You won't need the list. I can promise that. Too much can go wrong, especially if you can't see all of your enemies."

"So nothing can go wrong if they can't see me."

"Yeah well we didn't see the Shinobi before they jumped us."

"Obviously you were good enough to fight them off."

"Yeah, I guess I was," Tsume smiled. Maybe talking to Fumito wasn't so bad after all.

"Then I just need to stick with you, Washio-san."

"Hah! Yeah! But we still got captured."

"But you've learned from your mistakes, right?"

"Kuso {Shit}, I wouldn't know. The shinobi... they're just as unpredictable their reputation says."

"Well we're still going to get the Templar, right?"

"Yeah, just watch out for Shinobi. I've seen Kennosuke and Sensei fight them well enough. I just don't know about you or Rangiku because neither of you have that same combat experience."

"So, what do I do if I see one?"

"Spread your arms wide and pledge your allegiance to the Templars."

"Tsume!" Asuka snapped.

Tsume halfheartedly shrugged, "What?"

"Do you think that shit's funny?"

"A little, yeah."

"Oh, so an Asashin turning Templar is funny to you?"

Tsume paused for a moment. He really wanted to mend this joke, but he knew he couldn't change Asuka's mind. Might as well try, "I just- I wasn't being serious."

"That's a really serious thing to joke about."

"I know. I'm sorry," maybe not-trying would have been better.

"I won't hear it from you again."

"Okay, Sensei."

Asuka whipped around, stinging Tsume's face with the back of her hand, "Listen to me, Tsume, because you will only hear this once: we are on a mission. This is not the time for jokes."

By the time Tsume mentally recovered, Asuka had already snapped back around and continued toward the temples.

"Go yo {Official business}! Josei {Woman}! What are you doing?!" a samurai called from around the corner with three other samurai behind him, "Why did you hit that man?"

What's this? The samurai were protecting Tsume for a change?

"You give me a reason why I shouldn't," Asuka snarked.

The samurai glanced at Tsume's swords, "Because he's a samurai!"

Oh, well that explained it.

"And why does a woman have swords?!" his voice kept getting louder. Asuka, who was taken aback at first now leaned to one hip, waiting for the samurai to finish, "And you're leading two men in a group?! I should test my new sword on you."

Tsume's brain flashed for a moment to the day his uncle Yuji was killed by a samurai testing his blade. He never wanted to see that kind of injustice again, but he was always powerless to do anything to samurai but throw rocks and run. Now a samurai was threatening Asuka with it. Now Tsume was not powerless.

Tsume kicked the samurai in the back of the knee. As he fell, Tsume raised his hidden blade. It dug deep into the samurai's chest from the corner of the neck, spraying blood over Tsume's arm. When the blade retracted into Tsume's wrist, he kicked the body to the ground.

"Sorry," Tsume said coldly to the samurai's men, "I needed to test my new blade. . . It works."

The three remaining samurai reached for their swords. Tsume clenched himself ready for a fight. Asuka's sword greeted one across the throat, then another in his gut, and the last in his skull. The men stood dead until Asuka sheathed her sword. She was admirably graceful with an extra person inside her belly.

"What the fuck is your problem?" her eye did not convey that same fluid grace. Instead it burned of rage, "We've already lost more than enough time because of you."

Shame pushed Tsume back, "Moushi-"

"Fuzakeru na {No more screwing around}!"

Tsume only wanted to apologize. He glanced over to Rangiku and Fumito. Rangiku was shaking her head unsympathetically while Fumito avoided making eye contact with Tsume.

"Kuso," Asuka muttered, "Fumito, get to the roof. Tell me what you see."

Without a word, Fumito nodded and scuttled up the building. Or at least he tried. He stumbled a bit going up the first story, but got caught on a beam. He soon regained his balance and managed the next two stories with relative ease before disappearing to the rooftop.

As Fumito floundered his way up, Rangiku approached Asuka, "Is something wrong, Kasai-gozen?"

"Look up north," Asuka pointed, "See the smoke?"

"I do."

"Okay, and west?"

"Hai, Kasai-gozen."

"Now look around the sky. Its full of smoke."

Tsume checked around as well and Asuka was certainly correct. Massive pillars of smoke stretched to the sky all across Edo. It looked like a bizarre forest of a sort, tainting the sky gray without the promise of rain or snow.

"I was afraid Egawa would do this," Asuka continued, "I knew he would start a few fires, but he has too many to be overseeing them all personally. He'll probably even have speakers at them all too. He's crafty like that, but he also loves being the center of attention."

"Does Sensei have a plan?" Rangiku asked.

"I sure as Hell hope so, but if he does, he hasn't told me. I still don't think I'll ever understand that man. Hell, I don't even know why he wants you two to work together. So, I'm going to work out a plan that will get Egawa killed and save as many books as possible."

"You two? Do you mean Tsume and me?"

"Yes well, the two of you had sex. It's best not to get too attached to your teammates. If you lose one, things get personal. You don't want things to get personal, because it distracts you from your Asashin duties."

"Well, if I couldn't work with any guy that-"

"I think it's best if you finish that sentence there," Tsume interrupted, "I'm right next to you."

"Tsume has a point. Don't piss off your teammates, either," Asuka added, "Especially not with personal problems."

"It's not personal. It was never personal," Rangiku continued as if neither of their warnings had any merit, "Tsume is a nice enough guy, but I'm not interested in him that way. It was just sex."

Tsume was actually relieved to hear that. He didn't really want to be too closely involved with a girl who would use sex as a random gift like Rangiku. In fact, he wasn't really all that interested in getting into any relationship with a girl. In fact, the very thought of love sounded like a liability in Tsume's head.

"I mean, sex is just a thing I do. I've had it with everyone but Kennosuke, Azusa, and Takanori."

Tsume's heart sunk at that one. Everyone? Seriously? Rangiku could have passed some kind of disease his way. It was a wonder that she was not pregnant like Asuka.

"Wait, even Joseph?" Tsume asked.

"Ew no. I'm not into gaikoku-hito {foreigners}."

"Hey, what's going on?" Fumito returned.

"Nothing is going on," Asuka answered, "because this conversation is over. What did you see?"

Tsume locked eyes with Rangiku and nodded toward Fumito. "Even him?" He whispered.

"There's a burning three blocks to the north and one block west," Fumito reported to Asuka.

Rangiku nodded to Tsume with her yes-and-it's-stupid-that-you-would-ask face.

Asuka addressed all of the Assassins, "That's on the way to Asakusa. We're going to kill whoever is feeding each fire on the way to the temples. When we reach Asakusa, we're going to split up and keep our eyes open for Egawa Hidetatsu. Tsume, do you remember what he looks like?"

Tsume nodded, "Squirrely man too small for his haori."

"Good. We won't deviate very far from the path to Asakusa. Understood?"

"Hai, Kasai-gozen," Fumito affirmed.

"Does everyone else understand?"

Rangiku answered, "Hai, Kasai-gozen," the same as Fumito.

Tsume only nodded again because his attention had gone toward the implications of Rangiku having sex with both him and Fumito. Who was she with first? Who was better? Was Fumito secretly- Tsume looked up, and the other Assassins were leaving without him.

Tsume sprinted to catch up. As he did, he noticed more people than just merchants or the odd apathetic continuing their day. Instead, Asuka and the other Assassins had already partially disappeared into what had become a crowd. Tsume pressed forward in his attempt to keep pace. He gently pushed some people out of the way so he could reach his allies faster.

In the distance, Tsume could hear the speaker, but understanding him at this point was impossible. He still needed to move another block west before he would even be able to determine if the speaker was Egawa yet. He could see the smoke drawing closer. Wherever he could find smoke, he knew there was fire.

"Tsume. Over here," Fumito tapped his shoulder, "Kasai-gozen told me to stay with you."

Tsume's eyes rolled, "Alright. What else did she say?"

"She said for us to go around the left, then split up and wait for her signal. That way, we can attack from all sides."

"Makes enough sense."

"Are you ready?" Fumito pointed his thumb toward the smoke.

"Let's go."

"Lead the way, Washio-san."

Tsume pushed forward, careful not to draw too much attention to himself or Fumito. As they approached the source of the smoke, the crowd became tighter. However, he could now hear the speaker well enough to understand him.

"We will not bow to the gaijin {barbarians}! We must not! They spilled the blood of Chuugoku {China} and they tell us that they come with peaceful hearts! They said the same to the red men of their own nation before slaughtering them like pigs! Like the red men and Chuugoku, we cannot fight them as we are! We must adapt their own ways or we will be crushed by them!"

Tsume was now in the square. The stink of the fire stung his nose. It smelled somewhat of mold. If the books and scrolls were old enough to gather mold, maybe it wasn't so bad to clear some room in the libraries and temples.

He turned back to Fumito, "You keep going. I'll move to the front of the crowd here."

"Hai, Washio-san," and Fumito vanished into the crowd with that.

Tsume redirected his attention to the crowd. He was directly behind a man who appeared to be a noble. To his right, a woman held her daughter's hand. He pushed between them to advance. He was getting closer. A poor man, a rich woman, a bearded samurai, a sumo, and a girl no older than Tsume all inadvertently blocked his path. They were also easily navigated.

As Tsume parted the last two people, he reached the clearing. The fire was surrounded by about eight samurai. Another samurai pried himself through the crowd with his arms filled with books. He uncaringly fed them to the fire before vanishing into the mass of people again. Then, from across the smoke appeared another man reading aloud from a scroll. He was too big to be Egawa, but he was definitely the speaker.

"To bring in the new, we must destroy the old! To defeat the gaijin with their own weapons, there can be no greater testament to the greatness of the people of Nihon {Japan}. We shall defend ourselves so we may continue our lives in peace!"

Tsume made a quick glance around the crowd for Asuka or Rangiku or Fumito. No sign of Asuka, but Rangiku subtly waved in his direction. Tsume waved back, keeping his elbows close to his chest. Rangiku pointed to a part of the crowd across the fire. Asuka must have been there. Tsume nodded and reached for his sword. Rangiku checked Asuka's direction. Slowly her hand moved to her sword. She glanced to Tsume as her feet shifted to a pre-combat stance.

Tsume didn't wait. He charged with his hand grasping the hilt. One samurai reacted to him, but was cut down by a slash across the gut. Another drew his sword to attack, but was skewered by Tsume's blade. A third samurai attacked Tsume, but was killed by Rangiku from behind. Tsume checked his own back in time to block an overhead strike from a samurai who did not expect to be gutted by Tsume's hidden blade.

As quickly as it had begun, the fight was over. Tsume checked the area, but all of the samurai appeared to be dead. The same could be said for the speaker, whose body lay at the feet of … Fumito … Great … That means he's going to be bragging endlessly. Subarashi {Wonderful}.

"How will we put out the fire, Kasai-gozen?" Rangiku asked.

Asuka pointed to a man in the crowd, "You there!"

The man was startled and pointed to himself curiously to ensure that she was talking to him.

"Yes. You," Asuka confirmed, "Retrieve the hikeshi {firemen}. Tell them that Egawa's fires are to be put out."

He shakily bowed to Asuka, "Hai, gozen." He didn't waste any time shoving people aside as he ran into the crowd to call upon the firemen.

"Kasai-gozen, that was incredible!" Fumito yelled with enthusiasm, "I can't wait to tell my dad that I'm a hero now!"

Asuka's hand calmly raised to silence him, "We need to keep moving. There are more fires and we aren't even in Asakusa yet."

"Hey!" a voice broke the cautious calm of the situation. The last samurai of the group dropped the books he had brought to burn. Tsume readied his sword. As the samurai reached for his hilt, an arrow threw him to the ground.

Asuka put away her yumi without making a sound. She faced the crowd and only made a 'move along' motion with her hand. The human curtain parted to make a path for the lady ronin and her three Assassin students.

As Tsume followed Asuka into the clearing of people, he caught glimpses of their reactions to his deed. Some bowed his way. Some jerked back from fear. One girl gave such a smile that Tsume discerned her intentions to be seductive. However, most of the crowd reacted with a great respect for the bravery of the Assassins.

When the swarm of people ended, Asuka decided to address the recruits, "Did you see that?"

"See what, Kasai-gozen?" Fumito responded.

"Their faces."

"They looked scared."

"A few, yes. But they didn't retaliate. Do you know why?"

"Fear?"

"No, because they support us. The Templars are trying to start a revolution. The people may be getting sick of Tokugawa and the gaikoku-hito {foreigners}, but they don't want to sacrifice their own culture to achieve it. They aren't so desperate yet. They just want to be left alone."

"So, what are you saying?" Rangiku asked.

"I'm saying that Egawa will not die as a hero. In a way, he's making our job much easier. Tsume, you check the rooftops. Tell me what you see."

Tsume dashed to the nearest three-story building. It had a ladder leading up to the second story. No problem. Tsume scaled the ladder with complete ease. Running up the next wall was simple enough, despite the fact that the wall was smooth.

From atop the roof, Tsume could see the temples of Asakusa not too terribly far ahead. He managed to count the blocks up to seven, but a stupid smoke cloud blocked his view. Wait, smoke cloud? Okay, there was another fire up ahead at an intersection. Hopefully, it would be the last one before Asakusa. Seemed to be.

Tsume had never been to Asakusa before, and he wasn't terribly excited to go now. The priests held a special place in Tsume's heart alongside the samurai. They had shunned the eta {outcasts} as preemptive criminals guilty of being poor. Tsume had to sleep many hungry nights because eta were not allowed to rise the ladder into polite society. He also pilfered many coin strings for the same purpose. It was a ridiculous cycle of desperation.

"Hey Tsume," Fumito said, apparently he had just climbed the building, "Kasai-gozen sent me to help you."

"I don't need help," Tsume answered, "I'll be going down soon."

"Actually, she said not to do that."

"You have my attention."

"She wants us to lead the way from up here. Said it would be easier."

"Alright. Let's go," Tsume ran toward the fire. He stayed along the edges of the rooftops to ensure that Asuka and Rangiku could see him, but not so close that he could fall off. In the street below, the crowd had thinned until only the odd elder, child, or shopkeeper had not gathered to a burning. Soon ahead, he leapt across a gap between buildings to cross the street. He checked behind to see that the other Assassins were keeping pace with him. They were.

Down in the street, Tsume could spot the population density growing again toward the smoke. Crowds of curious and terrified hundreds must have gathered like this around each fire in Edo. They needn't fear much longer, their heroes had come. Azusa would have loved to be the one doing the saving. Maybe it would be best not to tell her the story of this mission, just to stay on her good side.

Tsume slowed until he reached a stop. He now stood over the site over the next fire. The heat and moldy smell of the burning was a stark contrast to the chilly air. As the flames chewed away at the books, another orator read from a scroll while surrounded by samurai.

"Mashūperī {Matthew Perry} and the Amerikajin {Americans} demand that we open to the outside world or they will force us! Just as the kamikaze {sacred wind} protected us from the Mongoru {Mongols} so we still retain the favor of the kami {gods}! They will guide us on our path to victory!"

It was identical to the fire from before, if perhaps more cramped because it was in an intersection rather than a square. Tsume checked the street behind in case Asuka and Rangiku had caught up to him. They were just entering the crowd, but had quite a way to go before finally reaching the front. Fumito, however, was immediately behind Tsume, also taking in the spectacle.

"We will not bow to the gaijin! We must not! They spilled the blood of Chuugoku and they tell us that they come with peaceful hearts! They said the same to the red men of their own nation before slaughtering them like pigs! Like the red men and Chuugoku, we cannot fight them as we are! We must adapt their own ways or we will be crushed by them!"

"It looks so different up here," Fumito commented. He wasn't wrong. The smoke cloud stung at Tsume's eyes and nostrils, but it was still easier to see how important this whole mess was to the people of Edo. With or without their approval, witnessing the death of their culture was a big deal.

"Hey Fumito, I have an idea," Tsume muttered.

"What is it?"

"If we attack right now, we can get the drop on the samurai. By the time they realized what's going on, they'll be dead."

"What about Kasai-gozen? Shouldn't we wait for her order?"

"She'll probably reward us," Tsume didn't wait for Fumito's answer. He jumped from the corner of the building onto the orator. If he was not crushed by Tsume's landing, the blade to the neck certainly killed him. A samurai drew his sword, but was greeted with a cloud of dirt to the eyes. Tsume wasted no time to stab him with a wakizashi. Instead of allowing the corpse to fall, he shoved him to the next samurai. Once distracted, Tsume came around the corpse to stab the samurai in the chest with his hidden blade. Another samurai slashed down, but Tsume spun to the right, using the momentum to cut open a new hole in his throat. A fourth samurai stood in a combat stance. Using his sword, Tsume flung ashes from the fire to his eyes. The samurai swung at Tsume's sword to block it, but missed completely. Tsume took the opportunity to bury a blade into the samurai's skull.

"Tsume!" Rangiku called in distress.

Tsume turned about to see her dilemma, but instead watched her stab a samurai with her hidden blade and kick him into the fire. Apparently, Tsume was the one in danger.

"Thanks for saving me," Tsume bowed to Rangiku while he wiped samurai blood from his sword.

Rangiku's palm stung Tsume's face with almost as much force as Asuka's. "Kasai-gozen said to do that," she explained.

"Why? We got them."

"Because you didn't wait for my signal," Asuka entered the conversation, "Yes, you got the element of surprise, but I doubt you even know how many times these two had to cover your back. How many samurai were there? Did you get the book carrier? "

Tsume glanced around the clearing to see if any samurai remained. None did. For that, he was thankful, but he still wished he had known the answer to that sooner. A red cut on Fumito's kimono marked a recent injury on his arm. Tsume's gaze shifted to the fire to avoid looking Asuka in the eye.

"And you got Fumito hurt. Are you trying to endanger this mission?"

"But we got them," Tsume retorted, "What more do you want?"

"For you to listen! When we get to Asakusa, I expect you'll follow your orders as I say!"

"Excuse me, gozen," a man from the crowd approached Asuka.

Asuka's hand told him to wait until she finished with her student, "Do you understand me, Tsume?"

"Hai."

"Good," she shifted to the stranger, "You were saying?"

"Did you say that you are going to Asakusa?" the stranger asked.

"We are."

"Will you stop Egawa? He's gone mad there. He has an army of samurai protecting him while he destroys our books."

"More than the samurai here?"

"So many more. I think he has an army."

Asuka sheathed her sword, "What can you tell me about the fires in Asakusa?"

"Only one fire, but he's burning the Bukkyoto {Buddhist} texts."

"Ano yaro {That bastard}."

"Please stop him before he gives the gaijin what they want."

"Don't worry," Asuka's hand moved to his shoulder to assure the man, "We will protect Nippon {Japan}, but I need a favor from you."

"What is it, gozen?" the man bowed.

"Fetch the hikeshi. Let them know that Egawa's fires are to be put out."

"Hai, gozen, at once," and with that, he vanished into the crowd.

As Asuka approached the crowd that surrounded the fire, a rift formed to grant her passage to Asakusa. Her recruits followed shortly behind.

"So did you hear that?" Asuka said to her students in her I'm-about-to-teach-you-something tone once they had made sufficient distance from the mass of people .

"Egawa is in Asakusa," Rangiku answered.

"No, that he's well-guarded. The people of Nippon have long forgotten what an army looks like, so we won't need much. Maybe around ten ronin, twenty at the absolute most."

"What if he has more?" Fumito asked.

"Modern samurai have a tendency to stop fighting once their master dies. All we need to do is get the drop on him. There's just one problem, but Tsume can fix that."

"Me?" Tsume was startled, "Why me?"

"Rangiku and Fumito, we're going to split up here. I want the two of you to enter Asakusa from the eastern side. Hire every ronin you see until you can afford no more. Tell them to watch your backs."

"I don't have any money," Fumito scratched his head.

Asuka quickly removed some money from her coin pouch, which Rangiku and Fumito both accepted. "Four shu (1000 mon) each," Asuka explained, "A ronin will have a hard time turning down a shu (250 mon)."

"Hai, Kasai-gozen," they both uttered simultaneously.

"Oh, and Fumito."

"What is it, Kasai-gozen?"

"Get your arm wrapped. It doesn't look serious, but get it wrapped."

"Hai, Kasai-gozen," Fumito's free hand covered his wound.

"Fuzakeru na. Iku ze {Let's go}."

Tsume would have watched them leave, but Asuka turned him around so the two could speak directly, "You're the only one who can spot Shinobi, because of your gift."

"Erm, what gift?" Tsume had been told by Nariko to keep his gift of knowledge a secret. He never understood why, but he followed that order faithfully, except for that time he told Joseph ... of course Joseph would be the one to tell Asuka. He never could keep his mouth shut.

"Don't play dumb. Between Joseph and Nariko, you can't keep secrets from me."

"Wait, Nariko-san too?"

"She and Kennosuke are the only family I have, so we talk a lot. By the way, Kennosuke knows too."

Tsume glared incredulously.

"That's not important. YOU are going to scout the crowd for Shinobi. They'll probably look like regular civilians, so your talent is going to be invaluable. Granted, it would be much easier if you were taller as well."

"Did you really need to bring that up?" Tsume snarked.

"Did I stutter? You'll have to prowl the rooftops nearby and keep your eyes open for Shinobi. When you see one-"

"IF I see one."

Asuka smacked Tsume for the third time today, "No, WHEN you see one, you will slip through the crowd and kill him. Only do so quietly; we can't have you scaring the crowd against us. Come with me."

As she began walking toward Asakusa, Tsume followed shortly behind. "Don't worry about your gift," she assured Tsume, "I don't plan on telling anyone, and Joseph has such a loose grasp of it that he doesn't even think it's real. Now Kennosuke has grown up with his mother using her gift all of his life. I know them well enough to tell you that they would never speak of it to anyone they didn't deem trustworthy."

"Yeah, about that whole trustworthiness thing, do you think it was a good idea to send Rangiku with Fumito? I mean, they've had sex. I figure that was why you wanted Fumito to work with me on the rooftop."

"It is, but I had a talk with Rangiku and she isn't going to just throw her legs into the air the moment I'm not looking. I'm not sure if you've noticed, but she's more devoted to the Creed than anyone but Kennosuke. She won't directly jeopardize a mission because of whoever has been inside her."

"And Fumito?"

"He's lucky to have come as far as he has. I think that his enthusiasm is by far his biggest asset. He's strong and agile enough. If he didn't have such a frail spirit, he could be a much better Asashin. Even if his closeness to Azusa could help him improve, he needs to toughen up. I seriously thought that Asashin training would help with that, but he's acting like the same kid he was when I met him."

"What about me?"

"Do you want the truth?"

"Yeah."

"You've surprised me. I wasn't expecting as much from … pardon my language … but from an eta, but you've come pretty far. You're not afraid to fight dirty. It's not that you lack honor -you do- but you also lack shame. You have a tendency to alienate the others. Azusa and Kennosuke are the only recruits who have ever expressed interest in working with you, and Joseph is the only person outside of my family to think of you as a friend. Spending time fighting alongside them will help, but it's something that we need sooner. Understand?"

"I suppose. What about this team?"

"I think all of the teams are awful. There's no sense of camaraderie between anyone. They all just want to be the best. Arkwright tells me that you worked well with Kennosuke and Azusa at first, but when you came off of Fuji-san, they seemed relieved to be rid of you."

"Oh, I see."

"Wait right here," Asuka sped up toward a samurai-looking man in tattered clothes. His hair was long and free, but he retained a samurai's posture. He was clearly a ronin. Tsume always had some level of respect for ronin. They were at least humbled and sometimes gave him charity. Other times, though, they could be worse than samurai. That usually only depended on how long they had been ronin.

She spoke with him for a while. Tsume wasn't really listening. He knew what they were saying. She was going to hire him to help in the assassination.

"Tsume, let's go. Takeru and his friends are going to help us with the assassination," Asuka informed as she began running down the street.

Tsume picked up the pace, assuming that Takeru was the ronin she had just hired. He had three other friends with him, apparently proving that, even without a lord, samurai could never break their habit of traveling in fours. Must have had something to do with shi {four} sounding like shin {death}. Tsume never cared for superstition, but if it kept the people scared, then samurai would do whatever worked.

Perhaps it was his distrust of strangers or his upcoming need to use it, but Tsume turned on his gift. The aura of Takeru and his ronin was the same blue as the aura of Asuka and fellow Assassins. However something caught his attention. A flick of red appeared on a rooftop far ahead. A shinobi, perhaps? Templars and samurai were usually red but samurai were rarely on top of buildings.

"Asuka! Chotto matte {Slow down}!" Tsume yelled, pondering the implications of being outrun by a pregnant woman.

"What is it?" Asuka and the ronin slowed to a halt.

Tsume's finger aimed at what was now a stationary red blur atop a roof, "I suspect that Shinobi are watching."

"Up there?" Asuka pointed in the same location.

"Yes, in fact, I think they're preparing an ambush," Tsume pointed at a few places in the street ahead that also glowed red from hidden Templars.

"How many shinobi are up there?"

Tsume scanned the buildings again, "There's another across the street from him."

"Directly across?"

"Directly across," Tsume assured.

"Tsume, I want you to continue walking that way. If anyone jumps out at you, the ronin will watch your back. If they don't attack, show the ronin were to strike. I'll take care of the other guys," she removed her yumi from around her body and nocked an arrow over her head.

"Hai, Asuka," Tsume then motioned to the ronin, "Iku ze."

Tsume walked with caution so as not to make much noise. He pointed to a basket which housed a Templar. A shinobi retaliated from inside when the ronin got too close, but he was quickly decapitated by Takeru. The limp body knocked the basket toward his killers. A large object fell into the shinobi's corpse, spraying harmless bits of bamboo and blood in every direction. The black kimono and mask identified him as another shinobi. The arrow in his chest identified him as another dead shinobi.

Tsume heard a similar sound behind him. The other rooftop shinobi had also been felled and also landed on a basket which hid one of his compatriots. The last shinobi crawled from the debris and ran toward Asakusa, but could not outrun Asuka's arrow.

"Is that all of them?" Asuka asked her student.

Tsume checked the road toward Asakusa, "No, they're hiding around the corners two blocks up."

"Wait," one of the ronin interrupted, "So can this kid see through walls or something?"

"Something like that," Asuka snidely answered, "In fact, I suspect he may be a shinigami {death god} in training, so be glad he's fighting WITH you."

Shinigami? That was about as new as it was apt. Tsume couldn't wait to become a terror unto samurai. His name would become synonymous with death, and there was not a man brave enough to-

"Hurry up, Tsume!" Asuka called from ahead. She and the ronin had already begun a charge against the shinobi.

Tsume dashed to keep pace. Up ahead, the shinobi ambushed his allies. It was easy to tell that Asuka was easily the best fighter among them since she seemed to kill fully half of the Templar assailants. By the time Tsume had gotten close enough to enter the fray, the shinobi had already been reduced to bloody street litter.

"Tsume, any more?" Asuka asked.

Tsume checked the road ahead, but saw no red auras. He did, however, see something unusual in the distance. It was a whitish glow. He turned off his gift to allow his mind to rest from the burden of using a sixth sense as well as to get a clearer view. Where the white glow was before, he now spied the crowd. The massive space between the buildings ahead implied that they had finally reached Asakusa.

"Nothing," he reported to Asuka, "Nothing but the Asakusa district."

"Saiko {Excellent}, I want you to take to the rooftops. Keep your eyes sharp for any shinobi in the crowd. The rest of you will come with me. I need you to fend off the samurai while I kill Egawa. Is everyone clear?"

"Hai, gozen," Takeru confirmed. Tsume only bowed.

"Iku ze!" Asuka yelled before running to the crowd, ronin closely following.

Tsume climbed to the top of the nearest building. He could see the fire from here. Egawa was likely the man moving around the fire. He really did have a small army of samurai at his disposal. They were either feeding the fire with ancient knowledge or guarding it as the people helplessly watched it consume the very thing that made them Japanese. Kuso samurai. They accepted their orders without question, even if it meant a world without samurai. Actually, that probably would not be so bad.

Nevertheless, Tsume had a job to do. He activated his gift. Specks of red would occasionally mar the white of the crowd. Sometimes he would even notice blue that insured him of Rangiku and Fumito's safety as well as their own small ronin army. Funnily enough, Egawa would occasionally shout something like he was making a point and the people around the shinobi would rile up. Perhaps that was their purpose. Perhaps they weren't even shinobi, but just regular Templars. If that were true, then this mission just became so much easier.

Directly beneath Tsume, a red spot indicated the presence of a Templar adjacent to a street-level cart with a stack of hay which was itself near to a wall. The crowd's intermittent roars moved outward like a wave; a very quick wave at that. Yet they lasted just long enough. Tsume could likely dive into the bale unnoticed during one of those moments. Too easy.

They roared and Tsume took his leap of faith. He landed in the cart and quickly covered himself in hay before peeking through to the Templar. Just as planned, no one suspected anything. Tsume reached out from the stack and stabbed the Templar's heart before hoisting him into the cart by his arms.

Tsume jumped from the cart, intent on finding the next Templar. As he dusted the straw from his kimono, he turned off his gift. All of today's continuous use had given him a pounding headache. If he progressed cautiously enough, he should be able to avoid attracting Templar attention and help the ronin in holding off the samurai.

Then, as he was gently weaving through the crowd, Tsume caught a whisper moving from the front of the crowd to the back, "Did you hear? Egawa captured some people and is going to execute them!"

Tsume began shoving people out of his way so he could pick up his speed. He was sure to use his gift again so he could hear the rumors as they made waves through the human sea. He couldn't afford to lose any time; his headache would have to wait.

"...three of them..."

Exactly the number Tsume was hoping to not hear.

"...love each other..."

What?

"...woman is giving birth..."

Kuso!

"...going to kill her like the other..."

Tsume burst through the crowd, charging at full speed toward the gold-glowing Templar. Egawa must have heard Tsume's battle cry, because he turned and surprised Tsume with a punch across the face. Tsume retaliated by striking with his hidden blade, but Egawa caught his left arm. Tsume pressed harder, trying to push his now-fully-extended hidden blade into his target's throat. Egawa's free hand clutched Tsume's face, making the distance harder to close. The resistance in Egawa's eyes drove Tsume harder. His divine justice -his shinigami- had come.

"Asashin..." the Templar managed to mutter through gritted teeth.

Egawa stepped to the right to try to distance himself from Tsume's blade, but Tsume followed his motions so closely that it was futile. It only served to push Egawa's back to-

Thud.

Something shoved them both, causing the Assassin and the Templar to fall into the massive pile of burning books. With Tsume protected from the hungry flames by Egawa's body, he finally managed to deliver the killing blow through the neck. A shriek let out somewhere, but it was over.

Tsume leaned over Egawa in a colorless void. The Templar's blood stained his kimono from the wound down, but he did not look any worse from it. Instead he was perfectly calm. He didn't even seem to mind the puffs of smoke emanating from his clothes and hair.

"How long do you Asashin plan on keeping this up?" Egawa said as though he did not have a new hole in his neck.

"What do you mean?" Tsume asked in return.

"Hmph. That tells me everything I need to know. You Asashin have always managed to wreck our plans and keep us from moving closer toward achieving our goals, but you never try to understand us or our actions. You don't have any real motivations. You only want to stop the Templars."

"You were trying to destroy Japanese books. You want a war with the gaikoku-hito. Why would I not stop you?"

"I don't want a war. I want to save Nippon from a war. Do you think that we could fight anyone in our current condition? Nippon is three centuries behind the rest of the world. If Chuugoku wished to conquer us, what do you think would stop them? Mashūperī has already proven that you can't turn down a superior army with harsh words, but if you have the superior army, then you may act unquestioned."

"Mashūperī? But he's your superior officer. What do you have against him?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all. He wants to protect Nippon just as badly as anyone else."

"Speak sense, Templar, or not at all."

"I am speaking sense. Did you not notice? Or are you too blind to see it? Oh, to know the Templars' plans would give you and your ilk such a great weapon in your fight against peace."

"How will destroying our history help you to achieve peace?"

"Stupid Asashin, even if I sat down and explained everything to you, you could never hope to understand what drives us to do what we do. I don't have that kind of time now, and it's because of your recklessness. Perhaps you should have thought of that before you killed me. This conversation is finished."

Tsume was jerked from the fire and the void by a ronin. His gift had been shut off, possibly for the best. The flames were consuming the lifeless body of the man with whom Tsume had just conversed.

"Are you okay, kid?" the ronin asked as he patted out embers down Tsume's kimono.

"What just happened?" Tsume replied as he pondered why he was not suffering Egawa's fate.

"You fell into the fire."

"How long was I in there?"

"Maybe a few seconds."

"Impossible, I just talked to him," Tsume pointed to the unmoving Templar corpse.

"I don't know how. You killed him pretty thoroughly and I pulled you out as soon as I could."

Tsume looked over at the fire. Two ronin were removing someone in a white kimono from the fire. The Assassin robes were largely reduced to cinders, but a man from the crowd pulled them off, revealing the Assassin to be Rangiku. She must have been the one to push Egawa into the flames. Unfortunately, this was not the same beautiful Rangiku that Tsume knew from a few hours before. Her skin looked like she had melted. The cloth that bound her wrists appeared to have charred until it broke. The man removed his haori and draped it over her shoulders to keep the winter breeze off of her body. It would have been much warmer than the sarashi wrappings that she had been reduced to exposing to the public.

As Tsume came closer, he saw that she was staring at Fumito's corpse. He was the one Egawa had executed. His kimono was a stark white contrast to the red pool of blood that poured from his neck. Asuka was nowhere to be seen, but she was presumably having her baby at this most inconvenient time.

Tsume placed a hand on her shoulder, "Rangiku, it's okay. You saved me, so thank you."

She moved away from his hand as if it hurt. Considering her burns, that should not have been a surprise. Then she looked up at Tsume, challenging all of Tsume's courage not to flinch. His scar looked like nothing compared to what she had just suffered. Her head shook disapproval at Tsume's words.

"Tsume," she pointed to Fumito's body laying with his face obscured by his hood and the earth, "Did you kill Egawa?"

"I did."

"Will Fumito be okay?"

"He'll be fine," Tsume lied, "but we need to get you to a doctor."

**September 21, 2012 at the Abstergo facility in Rome, Italy**

"Well, Dr Nakamura, you will be more than pleased to see that your lead was correct. Mr Marshall is, in fact, descended from Washio Tsume," Vidic's voice said.

"I knew he would be," answered a woman's voice with a Japanese accent, "Have I ever been wrong?"

"No, that you have not, Dr Nakamura."

The animus visor slid out from in front of my face. About time, too. I was more than ready to get the image of that burned woman out of my head. That Tsume must have seen some shit, because I can't shake the feeling that we're just getting started. Yet I already can't wait for it to be over.

I stepped away from the animus to stretch off all of that laying around. I quickly glanced over to Dr Vidic. As I expected, he was talking with a bespectacled middle-aged Japanese woman with an iPad clutched in her right arm. I know it sounded racist, but I was already getting tired of seeing Japanese people in the past. I didn't want to be dealing with more now. At least my home town of Philadelphia had a few other kinds of Asian. I really wanted to go back to that place. I wanted a cheeseburger with fries and a coke. God, I missed America.

Vidic, who seemed to just now notice both my presence and my awakeness motioned between me and... "Mr Marshall, meet Dr Mitsuko Nakamura. Dr Nakamura, this is Gabriel Marshall, as you no doubt know."

"Pleased to meet you," she extended her hand alright, but she very clearly was not pleased. If she really was pleased to meet me, she would not have been giving me the same level of interest that I gave to my ex whenever a new Twilight book came out.

I shook it and bowed from the hip, "Konnichiwa, Nakamura-san." Wait, did I really just do that?

She cracked an itty bitty expression that resembled a smile of mild amusement, "Close, I assume that the new enhancements to the animus are assisting you in synchronizing with your ancestor and harnessing the bleeding effect."

"Dr Nakamura," Vidic oh so rudely interrupted, "We have not discussed the details of the operation with Mr Marshall just yet."

"Have you at least explained why we need Washio Tsume?" Nakamura snapped.

"No, and that is to stay classified until we get closer to the memory we need."

She looked back at me, "Simply, your ancestors were very important."

"Wait, ancestors? Like... more than the one?" I was only aware of the one, but holy shit. I kinda wanted to see just how important my DNA could be. Maybe I was even the big oil well that they found in the basement of the house that they won in the lottery or something else that ridiculously unlikely.

"Hai, but we want to run a few tests on you first."

"What kind of tests? Because I promise I'm clean."

"Nothing much, Mr Marshall," Vidic answered, "We just want to see what kind of skills you may have picked up from your ancestor. Apparently, you're picking up on his language, so we don't need to run that test."

"Domo arigato, Dr Roboto," God, I hated that song, "So, Doc Nock, exactly what is he talking about?"

"We're going to test your combat skills and maybe your agility if we have time for it. We scheduled a meeting for you with Daniel Cross. He's an expert at hand to hand combat among numerous other skills."

"Ah, okay, so when will the famed Mr Cross get to bask in my presence?"

"Sooner than you think, kid," an unfamiliar male voice said from behind me.

I pointed my thumb to the origin of the voice, "That's him, isn't it?"

Dr Vidic placed his arms behind his back, "Yes, Mr Marshall."

I turned around, expecting either expecting some ginormous douchecanoe with no sleeves and sunglasses or some guy from the Matrix with a black trench coat and sunglasses. I was not expecting that he would be about my size, looking like a pretty normal dude in a normal black button-up shirt, even if he did look like the singer from Alice in Chains. He wasn't even wearing sunglasses. He had short blond hair, high cheekbones, and a somewhat pissed-off expression that looked like you couldn't cheer him up with a two-girl threesome. So yeah, he looked exactly like the singer from Alice in Chains. May he rest in peace.

"Gabriel, you're coming with me," Daniel said. He uncrossed his arms and proceeded around the animus and to the door. I followed him along with Vidic and Nakamura. I was admittedly curious to see how they planned to test my combat skills. Hopefully, we were going to a padded room without straightjackets instead of the parking lot. I was really not looking forward to getting flipped onto some hot asphalt. Dealt with enough of that shit in my imagination.

"Hey, Cross, I have a question for you," I spoke up.

"What is it?"

"JEYEYEYESUS CHRIST. Deny your mak-"

"Stop. You are not funny. That is not funny. We are not paying you to joke around."

"Do you at least-"

"Yes, I get that comparison all the time. That just makes it annoying."

He still acted like a douchecanoe. He pushed open a door to a room at the end of the Animus chambers. It looked a bit like a martial arts dojo, but slightly more... blank. There was nothing on the whitewashed walls. The only hints of color were the four people who had just walked inside as well as the black mat that covered most of the floor.

Daniel moved himself to the middle of the mat, "Marshall, I want you to attack me."

"Wait, really? You'd see anything coming from a mile away."

Behind me, Nakamura mumbled something mostly incoherent, but distinctly enough for me to hear 'Increased tactical reasoning,' so I guess great-great-whatever-great grandpa was teaching me something after all. I walked slowly toward Daniel, knowing that he was going to fuck me up if I got too close. So, I stopped and moved into Tsume's unarmed stance. Lean back on my left foot while facing my right leg straight toward the opponent. Hands held up in a fencing position. I moved in for an uppercut.

**September 22, 2012 at the Abstergo facility in Rome, Italy**

Beepbeepbeepbeep

I struggled to push myself up. Daniel 'Totally-not-the-singer-from-Alice-in-Chains' Cross did a hell of a number on me yesterday what with all of the flipping me onto the floor for a few hours that he did. I was at least thankful that he got so caught up with his combat exam that the other doctors didn't have time to give me their agility exam. I don't think I was paying much attention in my studies anyway.

Ah shit. 2am again? That could only mean ...

"Gabriel, please report to your animus chamber."

Dammit, Steve from Accounting.


	10. Mixing Business with Pleasure

**September 22, 2012 at the Abstergo facility in Rome, Italy**

"Alright Steve, what is it this time?"

I sat up with my eyes on the ceiling intercom as I awaited a response from the disembodied voice. All I received was silence.

"Look, could you at least explain the point behind this bullshit."

Silence again.

"Please don't make me explain why this is bullshit."

"Please report to-"

"Your Animus chamber. Yes, I get it. What is it you wanted me to see last time?"

"What do you mean?" El gaspo! He speaks!

"Last night, you promised me something Vidic didn't want me to see, but you picked up exactly where we left off. There's no way you could have known what was coming up."

"I knew what you needed."

"Well shit, if you know what's coming up, why don't you just save the rest of us Templars some fucking headache and do this yourself? Just let me go to sleep."

"We need you synched with your ancestor as quickly as possible."

"Vidic said that could get ugly if we move too fast."

"I have big plans for you. You and another."

"Who's the other poor sleepless bastard?"

"I cannot tell you."

"Well why the shit not?"

"Because you do not need to know yet."

"Okay Steve, this is already sounding really fishy, so I'm going back to bed," I pulled the sheets back over my shoulder as I curled up in bed.

Beeepbeepbeepbeep!

"Fucking fine!" I threw my sheets off the bed. I had really hoped that last night was just a dream, too.

* * *

><p><strong>March 7, 1855 in Choshu, Japan<strong>

Tsume dipped a slice of his beef into the sauce. He stared at it for an indeterminate length of time before finally taking a bite. It was fine enough, but the situation weighed too heavily for Tsume to enjoy the dinner properly. He looked around to see if anyone else was having the same problem. To his right, Sensei, Hitsu, and Joseph had been eating well enough. Across the table, Rangiku's face was obscured by her hood. Tsume hadn't seen her without it ever since the assassination. She appeared as if that pained expression had become a scar in its own right, never to move again except to blink and occasionally wince when she touched the burns left on her face by Egawa's fire. Koizumi Saburou, Fumito's father, took another cup of sake. His drunken eyes half-examined everything while they floated his attention around the room. Azusa fidgeted with her chopsticks. Asuka's son Tairo slept with peace in his mother's embrace. Tsume could not see her eye from where he sat, but her head's angle indicated that she was gazing to the middle of the table while her free hand slowly dipped and ate her beef.

"Aakuraito-sama, tell me about Fumito's last mission," Saburou finally broke the silence, "Was he courageous? How well did he fight the Tokugawa?"

"Yes he was, but I was not with him at the time," Sensei pointed to Asuka, "Kasai-gozen was watching over him at the time, but she tells me that he was a fine warrior."

"Well then, Kasai-san," Saburou shifted the conversation, "Did he fight with honor?"

"He fought courageously," Asuka answered plainly, "He also died courageously, if that is what you wanted to ask."

"Did he die fighting?" he took a sip of sake.

"If it were not for his sacrifice, we would not have been able to save those books that day without larger casualties and Tairo would not be with us," Asuka's cheek nudged her son carefully so as not to wake him.

"But did he die fighting?"

"He still has his honor."

"Who defeated him?"

"He was never defeated. He was captured by an honorless shinobi."

"What happened then?"

"He was dragged out with Toriyama," Asuka motioned to Rangiku, "and myself. Egawa said he was going to kill us all at the same time, but he did not know about Washio."

Saburou filled his cup and drank again, "Only a coward would want to kill a woman first, even if she was a ronin."

Asuka calmly nodded without removing her watch from the Assassins' host, "Fumito demanded that he be killed first. He wanted to buy Washio some time."

"I asked you to make a man of the boy," he pointed to Sensei, "and I see that he died like a man. Did he do anything else important?"

"He was my finest scout," Sensei confirmed, "He was very good at keeping attention away from himself. Kasai also tells me that he killed a man who was giving a speech in favor of Tokugawa's actions."

"Any friend of Tokugawa is an enemy of Choshu and therefore an enemy of mine. Otherwise, I would never have trusted my son to a gaijin {barbarian}, no matter how well you speak Nihongo {Japanese}," Saburou pushed away his dry sake cup, "But you've surprised me, and for that, I am thankful."

"I noticed that you have another son."

"Hai," Saburou's pride squeezed a grin out of his face, "I expect great things from Toyo someday. Moreso than his brother."

"We could train him," Sensei's hand opened as if Saburou would just drop Toyo into it like a coin.

"I will not allow it," Saburou's empty cup hit the table, "Not after you trained Fumito for a year, and allowed him to die first."

"Koizumi-sama, due to the nature of our work, we can never assure who will survive each mission."

"I suppose I should have expected it would be Fumito. So tell me," his finger wagged between Azusa and Joseph, "If the other two were actually with him on the mission, then what are you two doing here?"

Azusa opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Joseph answered for her, "We are Fumito's friends."

Tsume could tell that Joseph was lying. He rarely spent much time with Fumito, but Joseph was Joseph. He had either come as emotional support for Tsume or out of curiosity to see a Japanese funeral. Regardless, Tsume spotted Joseph tapping both ends of one chopstick on the table while his eyes kindled a fire of contempt for their host.

"Hmph," Saburou smirked, "He made friends with a strong gaijin and a cute girl. What about you two?" he now pointed to Tsume and Rangiku, "Were you his friends too?"

"We were," Tsume responded, "but he was closer to Azusa than anyone else."

"How close?" Saburou leaned toward Azusa.

"Close enough," Joseph answered for her.

"Koizumi-sama," Sensei interrupted, "We came to discuss the matter of seeing your son's wishes carried out in the future; not his life in the past. We also came to discuss the possibility of recruiting Toyo; not the decision to recruit Fumito."

"I just want to know," Koizumi defended himself before returning his focus to Azusa, "Did you ever sleep with him?"

As Azusa recoiled from Koizumi, Tsume heard something snap to his left. Joseph had broken the chopstick. His slacked jaw concealed no shock from the audacity of Fumito's own father. It was not a sentiment with which Tsume could disagree.

Saburou then pushed into Rangiku's space, "What about you, girl? I'm sure you were pretty once."

Joseph bolted up from the table, "Shitsurei shimasu {Excuse me}," once he reached the door, he turned around to address the table, "I will be waiting to leave. Is anyone going to come with me?"

Silence.

"Hitsu?" Joseph reached his hand to Tsume's brother.

"I want to stay with Tsume," Hitsu grabbed onto his brother's arm.

Azusa stood up slowly while silently wincing her pain, likely because her ribs were still not fully healed. Rangiku rose with her hand covering what little of her face was visible under the hood. Tsume patted on his brother's hand, "We're going with Joseph, Hitsu."

"No, you stay here," Sensei commanded. Tsume faced him in response, but Sensei was pointing to Azusa, "Ishikawa, you knew Koizumi better than anyone else. It would be best if you stayed here to discuss his last wishes with us. The rest of you may leave."

Azusa nodded and resumed her place at the table without making a sound. She picked up a slice of beef and ate it without sauce. It was probably the first bite she had taken since dinner began over an hour ago.

Tsume felt a tug at his arm. Hitsu's hands were begging that the boy be lifted. Tsume reached down and raised his brother, who was apparently getting too heavy to spend much more time hanging in other people's arms, from the floor.

When he turned about, he saw the door closing behind Joseph and Rangiku. He followed them away from the strained warmth of the Koizumi household and into the brisk winter night. Joseph opened his arms to offer Rangiku a hug, but she withdrew from him, never removing her gaze from the ground.

"Tsume, can you believe that asshole?" Joseph blurted in English as soon as the door shut, "His own kid is dead and all he does is cut him down."

"I think that maybe that was the sake talking," Tsume somehow wanted to defend Saburou.

"Oh no. Mr Koizumi gave Fumito to Arkwright to get rid of the kid. Said he was disappointed in his son and wanted to make a man of him."

"Mr Koizumi was drinking a lot of sake." Maybe it was because Tsume never really liked Fumito. He knew it was unwise to speak ill of the dead, but Fumito never seemed like he would amount to much. He was something of a liability, and his fun time with Rangiku still bothered Tsume, even though he knew she was the one to blame for that.

"Alcohol makes you say things you want to hide," Joseph removed his pipe from his kimono, "He wasn't hiding shit. He's just a drunk."

"And Fumito had to grow up with him." Somehow, Tsume knew he'd have a harder time bringing himself to criticize Rangiku for her decision. He wanted to blame her because he knew that made sense, but he couldn't. She had been through too much already.

"That's what gets me. Fumito was never very down. Something kept him going," Joseph struck a match which he burned in the pipe's bowl.

Tsume's eyes shifted to Rangiku. She had not moved apart from her teeth clenching onto what remained of her thin upper lip. "Rangiku," Tsume spoke, "Are you okay?"

She shook her head.

"Maybe you should go rest by the horses," Joseph suggested with a puff of smoke.

She shook her head again, this time with her mouth open as if she were trying to speak, but had forgotten how.

"What's wrong, Rangiku?" Joseph asked her.

Her lip remnants ceased their attempt to form words, leaving her jaw to hang loosely. Her eyes clamped tight. A single tear grew in her less-damaged left side.

"What is it?" Joseph's voiced lowered to a whisper.

"Loved me," she choked.

"What?"

"He said he loved me. Then he..." she dropped to her knees "Before he..."

"What?" a voice said from behind. Azusa had stepped out of the Koizumi house, "Yariman {Slut}!"

Rangiku's head rose to face her accusations. Her remorseful expression overcame her scars at that moment. Both of her eyes streamed tears down the new ridges that replaced her cheeks.

"It's your fault," Azusa's arms quivered as she moved to the huddled mess of Rangiku, "The Templar didn't kill Fumito; YOU did! YARIMAN!"

Shame pushed Rangiku's face into the shadows. Sensei appeared from the house to restrain Azusa around the arms. Azusa twisted at the shoulders to free herself, but she was not strong enough to break Sensei's hold. His hand muffled her accusations from everyone else's ears, but they were far from silent.

"Listen to me, Ishikawa," Sensei reasoned, "Listen!"

Azusa squirmed less and less until she slowed to a tearful stop.

"Is this what Koizumi would have wanted?"

Azusa's screams quieted her of their own accord. Her arms again cradled her chest where the ribs had been broken. She didn't cry any more, likely because of the pain, but tears flowed from her eyes anyway.

"No," Sensei continued, "He did the right thing and made a smart move."

"Yeah," Joseph added, "Asuka's baby wouldn't-"

"Not now, Kent," Sensei growled.

Asuka emerged from the Koizumis' door with her Kimono open on the left side to allow Tairo to feed, "Azusa! Koizumi-san has agreed to grant you some of Fumito's ashes if it will calm you the hell down."

Azusa mournfully nodded.

"Good," Sensei replied, "Kent and Washio, you two prepare the horses. Kasai and Ishikawa, you two get the ashes. Toriyama, you come with me."

* * *

><p><strong>April 10, 1855 in Charlton Arkwright's office in Edo, Japan<strong>

"Could I get something better than an intelligence mission?" Garen pleaded with his father.

"No," Sensei affirmed, "and you will bring Washio, Igarashi, and Maruya to Yoshiwara."

"Yoshiwara, you say? Well that changes things."

Tsume's ears perked at the mention of Edo's famed pleasure district. Like Asakusa, Tsume had never been, but had overheard no shortage of stories. Unlike Asakusa, Tsume had always wanted to go there. There, he had heard that a man was only worth as much as the coins on his string, and no man was exempt from that rule, not even nobles. In fact, Kennosuke's mother and the Assassins' teacher, Nariko, once worked there as a geisha.

"But don't get distracted. Your team has been chosen to play to their strengths, so the rest falls to you."

"You mean this team?" Garen's arm swept to highlight the three Assassins behind him, "What kind of team is this? I want to change it."

"You don't get to change it."

"Then I want you to change it. Add Azusa."

"I've already told you that you will not be working with Ishikawa directly."

"But Papa-"

"Don't Papa me," Sensei's finger whipped into his son's face, "I want you to gather your things and be gone by sunset."

Tsume could not see Garen's face, but could tell that he was staring down Sensei. "Add Azusa," he demanded.

"No, and that's final."

"Then I suppose you don't need me to go on the mission."

Sensei straightened and faced away from his students, "I had no idea that I was paying you to romance one of your fellow recruits instead of doing Assassin work. I know that I never hear any complaints from Ishikawa."

Garen's head dropped, "So, what's the objective?"

"Our contact in Yoshiwara has complained of Yakuza interference. She said that he suspects these Yakuza to be working for the Templars if they are not Templars themselves. If that is true, then we are at risk of losing our most vital information channel as well as our largest source of income."

"So what are you asking us to do?"

"I want you to investigate any connection between these Yakuza and the Templars. After that, I want you to stop the harassment."

"Excuse me Sensei, may I interrupt?" Igarashi announced, not really asking permission, "Did our contact specify which Yakuza clan?"

"That depends," Sensei's eyes broke contact with Garen, "Are you speaking out of turn?"

"I am."

A silence hung the conversation in the room. Tsume scanned to gauge everyone's reaction. Kennosuke's head was down and his eyes were closed so he was probably praying for some kind of safe mission or something, as usual. Both Sensei and Garen's attention fixed onto Igarashi. Sensei had taken on a what-on-earth-is-wrong-with-you face while Garen's mouth curled upward in amusement. Igarashi, however, kept his brows perked expectant of an answer. His smugness was as plain as the tattoos on his arms.

"No, Madam Kitsunagi has not specified any clan," Sensei added, "Unfortunately for us, she does not have a penchant for details, so you will need to find out the rest for yourself. And go without your uniforms. The last thing I need is for any Templars to know that we're running that particular house."

* * *

><p><strong>April 10, 1855 outside of Yoshiwara in Edo, Japan<strong>

"I still think we should have done something funny to the priests while we were in Asakusa," Tsume mused aloud as the four Assassins approached the northern edge of Asakusa. The fallen sakura petals swirled like dust in the wind in the plaza. Tsume saw a giant red torii in the nearing distance. Behind that Great Gate, Yoshiwara waited.

"That would not have been polite and we have a reputation to keep," Kennosuke responded.

"Yeah, how bad would that look on us? Especially since you're the one who killed Egawa Hidetatsu," Igarashi continued for Kennosuke, "the Asashin have become a lot more respected by the people of Edo. I've heard people say that we're protecting them from the spooky gaijin. If they knew our Sensei, then they might be saying something different."

"But Tokugawa's approval rating is awfully low, so as long as the Templars support him, we shouldn't have TOO many problems," Garen included from behind the others.

Tsume could see the massive bustle of brightly colored kimono beyond the gate. The overwhelming smells of many different perfumes filled the breeze as heavy as smoke, but was not as enticing as Tsume had imagined it would be. However the sun was falling behind the western walls of Edo, ready to pass its job to the moon. Yoshiwara's party was only beginning.

Tsume thought it clever on part of the priests that the path to Yoshiwara ran through Asakusa. Or was it the path from Yoshiwara instead?

"Chotto matte {Slow down}," a hand crossed in front of Tsume. A samurai on guard had halted him from entering the world of decadence that was waiting just beyond the gate.

"Is something wrong?" Tsume rested his hand on the hilt of his katana.

"No swords allowed in Yoshiwara," Kennosuke answered for the samurai to whom he passed along his swords.

Tsume hesitated for a bit before he removed the swords from his obi, "When do I get them back?"

"When you return from your … visit," the samurai gave a slick grin while he removed a small parchment and brush from a station behind him, "You just ask us for your swords and we will return them. What is your name?"

"Washio Tsume."

A shocked puzzlement seemed to mark the samurai's face as he wrote down the name, "That's the name you chose for yourself?"

"Your point?"

"Nothing. Move along," he tied the name to the sword with a length of string.

Tsume bowed with a smirk, "Domo arigato, kisama {honored sir}."

The samurai glared, "I said to move along."

Tsume entered the gate with triumph in his stride. He had finally made it to Yoshiwara. Within these walls were the next trends of Japan. Food, fashion, plays, and some other things Tsume had yet to imagine were all birthed here before being released into the rest of the world. In a way, Tsume had just walked into a future he was eager to conquer. For the first time in years, Tsume wished he were not an Assassin, just so he would not feel guilt for enjoying Yoshiwara.

"Exciting, isn't it?" Igarashi said as he approached Tsume, "You look like you've never been here before."

"A little hard to visit when you've never had money to spend."

"Well, I can't say I've spent much time tasting the fruits of Yoshiwara," Igarashi pulled his arms out of his sleeves and allowed the kimono to hang from his obi, exposing the sarashi around his gut and wrists as openly as the tattoos that covered his wiry arms, "My dad runs a business here, so I've been a regular visitor. It looks so different here, but I guess I should have known that since I haven't been here since Kasai recruited me here."

"I take it that it looks nothing like the Yoshiwara you knew."

"The crazy thing about Yoshiwara is that the more it changes, the more it stays the same."

"That is pretty crazy."

A tapping on his shoulder caught Tsume's attention. He checked to see Kennosuke standing patiently behind him. "The samurai would not allow Garen in, so he said that he'll meet us here when he can."

"I hope he's smart enough to leave his weapons outside," Igarashi replied, "The last thing we need is an incident because someone is carrying around their weapons in the open."

"That reminds me," Tsume included, "Igarashi, where's your hidden blade?"

Igarashi showed the wrappings on his left forearm. They bulged a bit under the wrist, but not so much that it would be glaringly obvious. "Don't worry. I didn't forget. I just wanted to show people that I'm not carrying any other weapons."

"Oh no, Igarashi Yuudai isn't dangerous; he's just a Yakuza."

"Heh, is it the same reason you left your geta {sandals}?"

"I think of it as something to be proud of. I'm not an eta any more. Also I forgot to put them on."

"You've been doing that a lot lately, I noticed."

"I was raised barefoot. I can't just tattoo geta to my feet."

"You may want to buy a pair while you're here. Some of the houses won't appreciate the extra dirt on their floors."

"Yuudai?" a voice came from the side. A young man with an open kimono and a chest full of yakuza tattoos was intruding the conversation.

"Satoshi?" Igarashi's eyes lit like a dog about to receive a treat, "What are you doing here?"

"I was eating some sushi at a bar nearby. You should join me."

"I ate on the way here, but why not." Igarashi left, completely forgetting about the mission, his teammates, and everything but his yakuza friend.

Tsume raised his brow, "So Kennosuke, that just leaves you and me to not be conspicuous," he was choosing to ignore his scar, "While we're waiting on Garen, did you maybe want to go look at the oiran {prostitutes}?" Tsume pointed to a brothel nearby with women in blue sitting behind a grated window.

"I would not want to visit an oiran tonight, thank you," Kennosuke answered.

"I didn't say we should hire them. I just said we should look."

"This place is full of temptations and I would like not to take part," the annoyance in Kennosuke's voice was growing more prevalent.

"Don't tell me that you're about to get high and mighty on me again." The 'again' was something of an exaggeration. Neither Kennosuke nor Nariko ever made a habit of self-aggrandizing themselves like the Buddhists. In fact, Kennosuke never made a habit of bragging about anything.

"No. We came here on Sensei's orders. This is not the time to play."

"Is there ever a time to play for you? We are in the most awesome part of all of Edo."

"I'm familiar with Yoshiwara. My mother was a geisha here for much of her life. My father died before I was born, so-"

"So you grew up getting to know the geisha and familiarizing yourself with Bushido and the Assassin's Creed."

"Hai."

"Oh yeah, I haven't heard that story enough from Asuka."

"You should have told me sooner."

"How? You were on a tangent."

Kennosuke's eyes moved to the ground, accepting the defeat in a simple argument. Tsume was proud of himself. Once again, he had managed to humble Sensei's golden boy. No such victory could be too small.

"Hey suckers!" Garen announced from behind, "What did I miss?" Tsume clutched his chest over his heart. Kennosuke remained perfectly calm. Garen laughed as he brushed the hay from his kimono, "Did you miss me?"

"Oh yeah, we were trying to figure out what we would do without you," Tsume answered Garen's likely rhetorical question, unsure how much of his answer was a lie and how much was selective truth.

"Okay smart ass," Garen scowled, "How about you get Igarashi and shut the hell up?"

"Okay the-" Garen's hand paused Tsume.

"AND shut the hell up. We're going to the geisha house. Kenny, what was it called?"

"Sakura Okiya," Kennosuke answered.

Tsume silently scoffed at the sheer level of creativity that must have gone into that name. Maybe they could have named it something like 'No Assassins Here.' That would at least grab some more attention. Maybe not good attention, but someone would certainly believe it.

Tsume spotted Igarashi exactly where he was expected; at the nearby sushi stand. "Hey Igarashi!" he called out through the crowd, "Time to go!"

A hand jerked Tsume about. Garen's eyes held no humor when his hands clamped Tsume's arms. They only threatened, "AND shut the hell up. Don't make me tell you again."

Tsume nodded, careful not to break eye contact, lest he show any fear. There was plenty of fear. He just didn't want it to be known.

"Alright I'm back," Igarashi caught up to the others, "You have no idea how good it feels to be called Yuudai again. Could you just call me that while we're on this mission?"

"No," Garen answered as he released Tsume's arms, "We don't want to get you mixed up with the other Yuudai. Let's go. Kenny, you lead the way."

He had always been referred by his surname to distinguish him from the other Yuudai, Shimoda. In fact, both Yuudai received that same treatment. It was only fair.

As the Assassins passed the buildings, Tsume noticed that the mass of tangled smells each belonged to a separate building. Each oiran house had a unique scent that was much more pleasant up close. That was not to mention the smells of food or the tea smell of the geisha houses. Tsume also noticed that the geisha would travel in the street near to their house while the oiran would stay perched in their crowded window like objects to be purchased. In a way, that was more true than it needed to be.

"Here," Kennosuke stopped with his finger pointing to a two story building. The edges of the wood was painted red and hung several pink lanterns which a geisha was taking the time to light in preparation for the coming night. Next to the entrance was a sign reading 'Sakura Okiya.'

Inside, however, was much more gaudy. The colors were subdued enough with dark brown framing individual white sections of the wall. Well, they would be white if they were not all painted. The subject of each painting varied, but most seemed to relate to the arts. They were even signed by the artists, but all in feminine names. They were likely made by the geisha of Sakura Okiya themselves.

A woman dressed in a green kimono stood in the center of this room. It was impossible to tell if she was beautiful through her thick white makeup and reddened lips and eyebrows. Her hair was tied high and wide in a manner that looked especially heavy. She turned about with grace, probably to keep her neck from snapping.

"Do you have reservations?" she smiled as best she could without opening her mouth.

"Arkwright," Garen responded holding up the back of his left hand showing every finger but his retracted ring finger.

The geisha's eyes widened, "Oh, certainly. I will inform Okāsan {Mother}."

"Arigato," Garen bowed.

"So Aakuraito sent you?" a woman's voice said from around the corner ahead, "Konbanwa," a stunning woman appeared wearing a lavish pink and blue kimono and the same closed smile as the geisha before, "My name is Kitsunagi Ayame."

She moved closer to the Assassins, but she did not take step, at least not visibly. He feet were not visible under her kimono and she seemed to be gliding. The only indication Tsume could see of individual steps was how often her head tilted ever so slightly.

"I'm Garen Arkwright, and these are Maruya Kennosuke, Igarashi Yuudai, and Washio Tsume."

Ayame bowed, "Shall we discuss important matters before business picks up?" She raised the back of her hand with her ring finger curled to the palm.

"Lead the way."

Ayame turned about, again showing no movement from her legs. She lead to the left with a staircase around the corner. Upstairs was similar to ground floor, but much less open. It was a series of hallways with sliding doors. Each panel of the wall had a different painting, once again probably depicting geisha services. Dancing, singing, reading, calligraphy, painting (of course) and images of many other arts covered every wall. From within the rooms, Tsume could hear the sound of music. It sounded like something rich people probably liked, but was much too slow for his tastes.

"Here," Ayame opened a door at the end of a hallway.

The room was empty except for a shelf of artistic instruments on the wall and a tea table in the middle. Yet more paintings covered the walls here, but something seemed odd about them. They seemed almost too... Tsume could not place it.

"Would you like some tea?" Ayame sat on her knees to pour a cup.

"No thanks," Garen answered.

"I would love some," Kennosuke bowed and graciously received a cup.

Tsume and Igarashi remained silent, apparently neither desiring tea.

"You said you were having a Yakuza problem, Kitsunagi-san," Garen sat across from Ayame.

"Hai, this is true."

"Which clan?" Igarashi asked out of turn.

"I do not know," Ayame sighed, "They had no tattoos, but they did wear the mon of the Shimazu clan."

"That doesn't sound familiar."

She withdrew a drawing from her kimono. It was a circle with a cross inside. The cross was not a Christian cross, which is long at the bottom, but rather equal on all sides.

"The Shimazu are powerful Daimyo in Kyushu," Ayame added, "but the men who came here did not have Kyushu accents."

"Templars. Definitely Templars," Garen muttered, "Shimazu Nariakira is a known Templar, so maybe he hired some thugs."

"Or shinobi?" Tsume posited.

Garen glared in Tsume's direction, "I never said you could talk."

"An Asashin takes orders from no one."

"But a student takes orders from his superiors," Garen's attention turned away from Tsume and back to Ayame, "What kind of trouble have they been stirring for you?"

"Well, they have been claiming that one of my girls has given one of their men a disease. She insists that she did not touch him. I am inclined to believe her."

"Why? Maybe she had sex with him."

Ayame's face straightened into unamusement, "Oiran please the body. Geisha please the soul. There is a perfectly good oiran house across the street."

"Alright. I'm sorry. Continue."

"They offered a truce. They said that I should allow a Tokugawa official to sponsor one of my girls and they would leave me alone. They chose one of my higher-ranked girls. I am aware of how many Templars work for Tokugawa, so I really could not say which one they would choose."

"It could be anyone, but as long as you work for the Asashin, you can rest easily. We'll protect you."

"Okāsan," a geisha entered the room, "We have a guest visiting on behalf of the Tokugawa."

"Inform him that I am busy," Ayame raised her tea to her lips.

"He said you would would not make him wait, Okāsan."

"Then inform him that I am coming," she placed the tea gently on the table before addressing the Assassins, "Please don't do anything too rash. We're under heavy enough scrutiny for dealing intelligence."

Garen extended his hidden blade, "Don't worry. I'm still armed."

Her eyes closed as if that were exactly what she hoped not to hear, "And the rest of you?"

The recruits all bared their blades as well. Tsume explained, "The guards only asked for our swords."

"And you," she looked to Igarashi, "And you are yakuza as well as Asashin?"

"As long as I am both Asashin and yakuza, you also have the protection of the Yamaguchi-gumi. I want the Templars to know that my clan will watch over this house."

"That would be best."

Ayame led the Assassins back downstairs and into the main room of the geisha house. Several men waited for them there. Tsume's heart sank when he saw their black robes and covered faces. The shinobi had come. However, there was one man who was not disguised. He was a pudgy man in dark green robes, but that wasn't the only thing striking about him. His hooked nose looked distinctly familiar. He must have been one of the Templars from Fuji. His dull eyes gave the impression that he did not wish to be here, but here he was.

"Ah, Ayame-gozen, there you are," the pudgy man bowed, "Konbanwa."

Ayame bowed in return, "And the same to you, Abe-sama."

"You, boy, with the scar," he pointed to Tsume, "You killed Egawa Hidetatsu, did you not?"

"I did. Does that mean I'm famous?" Tsume was only slightly taken aback by how easily he was identified. Is this how Garen promised that the scar would betray him? He glanced over to Garen whose face seemed to be accusing Tsume of smugness in a grim situation.

"Very famous. Perry-sama will be very grateful to see your head. And you," he now focused on Garen, "You are the son of Aakuraito, correct."

"What is it to you?"

"Ayame-gozen, you did very well in bringing me good Asashin."

"Domo arigato, Abe-sama," she moved toward the Templars.

"You bitch!" Garen grabbed Ayame before she could move very far, brandishing a revolver to her head, "You sold us out!" then he stared Abe in the eyes, causing the Templar to step back.

"You promised they would be unarmed!" Abe pointed at Ayame.

"A good Assassin is never unarmed," Garen fired a bullet into Ayame's temple and allowing her body to fall to the floor among bits of blood and brain, "I want to introduce you to my good friend Mr Colt. He seems very eager to meet you," Garen aimed the pistol to the Templars, "Say hello, Mr Colt."

He fired into the Templars indiscriminately, only hitting one who jumped to protect Abe.

"Kill them!" Abe screamed, "Kill them all! And the geisha! Bring me their heads!" He then rushed out the door of Sakura Okiya house in fear for his life.

Tsume readied his hidden blade for combat. The shinobi encroached in a mobile combat stance with wakizashi drawn. Since neither the Assassins nor Templars had the element of surprise, this would come down to combat. If a high-ranking shinobi like Osamu being killed by a basic Assassin recruit like Kennosuke was any indication, then the shinobi could not be much better fighters than samurai.

One shinobi jumped Tsume, but was countered by Tsume's hidden blade. The shinobi dodged and rammed him into the wall. Tsume ducked under the wakizashi slash and stabbed the shinobi's gut with his blade. He then gripped the black robes as he rose and stabbed his enemy again in the head.

When the corpse fell, Tsume spotted a shinobi running upstairs to the geisha rooms. Tsume opted to pursue him rather than stay in the chaos of the fight. When he reached the stairs, this target had already disa-

Tsume's face smashed into a step, splashing hood from his nose to the floor. He pushed himself up, but stumbled. He checked behind to see what was holding him to the ground. A shinobi had managed to snare his leg with a chain. The shinobi himself was armed with a kama {sickle} connected to the chain.

Tsume kicked his free leg against the chain, hoping it would release him from its hold before the shinobi came too close. The shinobi lunged. Tsume rolled as far as he could to his right, but could not avoid a kama dug into his shoulder. He fell onto his back and punched his assailant's face. With the shinobi distracted, Tsume was able to remove the blade from his bone and assist the kama blade in passing through its owner's neck.

Warm blood splattered onto the wall and Tsume's arm, but he did not have time to clean it off. A geisha screamed above. He would not even have time to take the kama. He unwound the chain from his ankle to run upstairs. In the hallway, he saw two girls, one of them being the girl in green from earlier, laying in blood that poured from their necks. If they were not yet dead, they soon would be.

Another scream came from one of the geisha rooms. A sliding paper door shattered open to make way for a man who did not have time to open it like a normal person. The man, most likely a patron, was escaping from what was likely a shinobi inside. Tsume pressed his back to a wall hidden from the door. Inevitably, a shinobi appeared, possibly in pursuit of the patron. Tsume managed to catch him off guard with a blade to the neck.

"You really don't want to go down there!" Tsume called to the patron downstairs.

The man had already been halted by the shinobi cadaver which guarded the steps. The sounds of swords and screams assured that the fight was not yet over. Tsume tapped the patron's quivering shoulder, causing him to jump.

"Come on upstairs," Tsume informed him, "It's safer there."

The man shook his head. From the look of his shaved pate and the emblems on his robes, he was a samurai. Tsume rolled his eyes at the prospect of helping one of his oppressors, but the job could not have fallen to Kennosuke or someone like him. It just had to fall to Tsume.

"Okay, you can stay down here and probably get killed," Tsume began upstairs. He had not taken two steps before he felt a pull at his bloody shoulder. The samurai was bowed deep behind him, leaving Tsume in a position he knew he would enjoy for a long time; power over a samurai.

He lifted the samurai by the shoulders, "Can you fight?"

The samurai shook his head again.

"Not good at conversation, are you? Listen, we're going upstairs where we're going to check all of the geisha rooms. If you see any more of these men in black, scream like a little girl, so I'll know it's you."

He patted the samurai's back on the way up to give him a head start. Tsume heard a shriek up ahead. It wasn't really a shriek though, more a wail. In the hallway one of the girls was cradling the green geisha. Her eyes poured tears as she cleaned the geisha's wound with her obi.

"Yoko," she pouted, "Yoko please don't go."

Tsume knelt next to the fallen geisha. The other girl kissed her on the forehead before burying tears into her nape.

"Tsume!" Kennosuke called, "Tsume, are you- oh Yesu {Jesus}, Yoko. Kazumi," he addressed the crying girl, "Kazumi, I need you to listen. Kazumi!"

The girl pulled away to face Kennosuke, "Yoko is still bleeding. That means she's alive. Grab me some cool water and a bandage. We will bring her back to you. Tsume, how many girls are hurt?"

"Two more that I know of."

"I want you to make sure that they may be alive."

"I already sent a man to take care of that."

"Good. How is your arm?"

Tsume had completely forgotten about the wound he had received, "I think it'll be fine."

How couldn't it? He did manage to forget about it, after all.


	11. A Knife to a Sword Fight

**April 11, 1855 in Edo, Japan**

"So I chased after Abe in the street," Garen finished his report to his father, "Maruya, Washio, and Igarashi here helped the Geisha inside."

"With your gun in the air risking our entire operation," Sensei pulled his arms behind his back, "So what were their motives?"

"Obviously to have us killed."

"Yes, but why would they choose a method so blatant?"

"No idea."

"Not only that, but you," Sensei turned his scorn to Igarashi, "You have certainly put your clan at risk."

"How?" Igarashi perked, "Now the Templars know that the Yamaguchi-gumi work with the Asashin."

Sensei's hand covered his eyes from his frustrating students, "The Yamaguchi-gumi are nothing compared to the Templars. The Assassins are barely a match for them."

Igarashi stood, "And together, we-"

"Are still not enough! How many countries have the Yamaguchi-gumi controlled? The Assassins have only ever controlled one, and we had to shut that one down ourselves. Do you know how many the Templars have?"

"Where was the one?"

"Not important. My point is that the Templars are everywhere. You can't escape them and you can't overpower them. You maybe should contact your father. Inform him that he will soon have Templars on his back."

"I don't think he would want to hear that."

"I doubt he would want a shinobi's sword in his back much more."

"Maybe not much," Tsume chimed in, "Unless his back is particularly itchy."

Igarashi's retaliation manifested in a jab to the bandaged wound on Tsume's left shoulder. Tsume scooted away while his right hand provided solace to the possibly reopened injury. "Don't do that again. I doubt that Sensei would want to clean us both from the floor."

"Are you trying to start a fight?"

"I would hardly call it a fight."

"Urusai {Shut up}!" Sensei commanded his recruits, "I am not finished. How many geisha were killed?"

"Three. Four if you include Ayame," Kennosuke answered, "We tried to save the three who were killed by shinobi, but we did not manage."

"I knew we couldn't trust that bitch," Garen burst into the conversation.

"Garen!" Sensei barked, "You will be quiet until I say otherwise."

Garen slunk back, not wanting to argue with his father. Tsume smiled inside. It was nice to see Garen on the receiving end of that silent-until-further-notice treatment after yesterday.

"Now this Abe," Sensei continued, "Did you catch what he looked like, Washio?"

"He was one of the Templars we tracked at Fuji. Hooked nose, fatty, never looked too interested in what he was doing."

"That would be Abe Masahiro. He's the current Rojū, so everything Tokugawa hears comes from him. I hope you realize how dangerous this makes him," Sensei's fingers dug into the corners of his eyes, "We need to get you all some practice on a new weapon. We begin tomorrow. Dismissed."

Tsume bowed and stepped outside. It was almost noon today and he had no set schedule for the rest of the day. His daily fitness and agility routine had been finished in the morning. Maybe Joseph would want to go grab some drinks or Hitsu was painting. Sanzo had been teaching him about art and Hitsu was already improving to the point where his people actually looked like people. Sanzo was good for something in that regard.

Tsume did have some concerns about the boy, however. Hitsu was physically frail and sick more often than not. Maybe he needed to have some strength beaten into him. Could he handle it? Should he try?

Up ahead, Tsume saw a woman in a yellow kimono approaching. She wore her hair tied and fanned out from the rest of her head like a geisha with some hanging low over her eyes. Tsume knew of only one woman who would cover her eyes: Hayashi Nariko, his teacher. She had lost her eyes at some point in her life and would cover the sockets so as not to frighten people.

"Nariko-san!" he called for her attention, "What are you doing here?"

"Tsume? Is that you?" Nariko beamed, causing her still-young wrinkles to show more than they had before.

"The one and only. How have you been? I haven't seen you in months."

"And I have never seen you once in my life. I hear that you are Washio Tsume now. What an interesting name. You've always had an unusual name. Why did you choose it?"

"Erm, does that matter?"

"A man's chosen name says much about him. Men on the complacent road do not change their names. Men on the ambitious road change theirs entirely. You chose both roads. Why?"

"I did not want an entirely new name. I wanted to keep a reminder of my life as an eta."

"Defiant to the end. Why did you choose Washio?"

"Sensei said that we are like the washi {eagle}."

"So why did you choose washio {eagle tail}?"

"It was a name that I had heard before. I didn't want my name to sound too odd."

"Equal parts arrogance and pragmatism. Yet you cling to tsume {claw} as well."

"What is your point, Nariko-san?"

"Curiosity. I want to advise you of something before it becomes too late. You were an eta, and so you shall always be an eta in your heart. You were powerless, but now you are strong and carry a powerful reputation. Do not be overcome by yourself like Toyotomi was overcome."

"So I really am famous now?"

Her smile flipped to a scowl, "Toyotomi became shogun, and his beginnings were little less humble than your own. Ishikawa Goemon was not the first nor last man to try to take his life. Tell me, Tsume, how well does your pay serve you?"

"I'm usually running short."

"Does a river hold water?"

"Of course."

"Where does it hold it? Where the river begins? Or where it ends?"

"In the middle," Tsume did not see the point of this riddle.

Her head shook, "Until you can answer this question, you will not understand your place in the world."

Tsume froze for a moment. Nariko liked these riddles, but Tsume never could provide an answer for them. How was he like a river? Was his place in the world a river?

"Have you made any progress with the gift of knowledge?" Nariko asked.

"I have, actually. I know how to use it, but it gives me headaches."

"Those will go away."

Tsume trusted her with that much. After all, she had not turned off her gift in fifteen years. She would know better than anyone else how it works.

"By the way," she added, "Your brother Hitsu..."

"What about him?"

"He is becoming a talented artist."

"Oh ... well that's nice. I knew that already, but it's nice," Tsume felt an awkwardness overcoming what should have been a pleasant conversation, "Nariko-san, it has been a pleasure speaking to you again, but I believe I should go see Hitsu now."

* * *

><p><strong>April 12, 1855 just outside of Edo, Japan<strong>

Earlier that day, Tsume had awoken to a note asking him to come to this unremarkable clearing in the wetter forest just outside of Edo. Apparently so had the other recruits. Mist from last night's rain returned from the ground to the veil of leaves above. Tsume appreciated a chance to get his feet wet occasionally so the feel of grass and dirt between his toes was a great relief.

He turned on his gift to see if he could find any clues as to why exactly the Assassins were brought here. The other recruits, all immersed in their pointless chatter, glowed blue. No surprise there. The mist was white. Not its usual white cloudiness which fades around the edges, but an actual glow that did not illuminate the world around- blue? A blue figure was surrounded by one of the clouds.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

Tsume's gift shut off when a knife appeared lodged in a tree trunk nearby. Elsewhere in the clearing, he spotted two other knives stuck in the same way. The recruits had been advised to come unarmed which, to them, meant that they brought only their hidden blades. The others had extended their blades except for Garen. He had drawn his pistol and taken guard over Azusa.

A rope with another knife wrapped around Garen's pistol arm. The figure dropped from the mist cloud to the earth, catching the gun and pulling it toward the knife thrower. The mist around the figure dissipated to unveil itself to be Asuka. She stood straight, holding three small blades between her fingers. "Are you all ready for your first promotions?"

"Not my first," Joseph countered.

"Well congratulations, I wasn't talking to you. Or Garen for that matter," she cleared her throat to raise her voice and the knives in both of her hands, "Your sensei has asked me to begin teaching you about kunai. These kinds of weapons are not particularly common in America, but we still use them in Nippon. It is an excellent tool for striking the enemy from afar without firing a noisy gun. Garen."

The kunai was small, not longer than her own fingers with a small hilt not longer than her palm. The pommel, however, was possibly the most interesting part because it was bent into a ring.

"The American Assassins have not used throwing knives on their own in decades, so Arkwright asked me to teach you about these," Asuka explained, "However, we do have a similar technique for a weapon called the johyo. Arkwright tells me that he has a special technique to teach you when he has the time."

* * *

><p><strong>April 18, 1855 in Edo, Japan<strong>

"You called, Sensei?" Tsume slid the door shut behind him.

"I did. As you know, you have reached a high enough rank to attend missions with smaller groups. Congratulate yourself. You're the first."

"Wait. Seriously? I thought that Maruya would be that guy."

"Are you questioning my judgement?"

"Of course not, Sensei."

"Good. I have a mission for you and Kent."

"What is it?" Tsume perked his brow.

Sensei's hand covered his frustrated eyes, "I will tell you when Kent gets here. He has made a habit of tardiness lately."

Tsume's respect for Sensei held him still to allow silence a chance to wash over the office. Tsume looked around at the emptiness of the room. It was an extension of Sensei's cabin, but was given a distinct Japanese feel, apart from the big blank wooden American desk sitting in the middle of the room. Tsume remembered helping Garen put it together. He was ... extremely bored if these were the thoughts in his head at the moment.

"So," Tsume broke the silence after what felt like minutes, "Nice weather today."

"Washio, now is not the time for small-talk," Sensei snipped.

Tsume nodded silently. It still felt like the time for small talk. Perhaps if-

"I'm here!" Joseph threw the door open so hard that it sounded like it had broken, "What did I miss?"

"Not a lot," Tsume answered, "Sensei has a mission for us. Nothing important."

"Alright, Mentor," Joseph sat in the chair opposite Tsume, "What is it?"

Sensei's eyes rolled, "Are you familiar with the name 'Shimazu Nariakira'?"

"He's one of the big guys in Kyushu," Joseph replied with confidence.

"Yes, and he is coming to Edo for the next year. I suspect that he will be discussing Templar business with Abe Masahiro. I want you to follow him to his Edo residence, but do not kill him. In fact, I would prefer that you not kill anyone. I want you wear your uniforms for this one."


	12. When the Lords Come Sailing In

**April 19, 1855 in Edo, Japan**

Tsume tossed another kunai into a post in his wall. This one stuck, unlike the last few attempts. His speed was improving, which was good. The leaf-shaped blade looked like it had quickly sprouted from the the post. He pulled two of his knives from the new makeshift tree and the other four from the floor. He carefully tucked them into the left of his obi as Asuka had instructed, so they would not accidentally stab their owner in the gut. Weapons were treacherous like that.

Tsume gave pause to think about his johyo lesson as well. It involved using the kunai as a weight for something sensei called a rope dart. Yet Asuka called it a johyo. That was such an odd lesson. Sensei's own lessons usually only covered basics like stealth and freerunning. He generally left the weapons training to Asuka with the exception of the hidden blade and the sword. But that lesson … Sensei was not one to share his teaching time. It was only appropriate, Tsume assumed. Such a versatile weapon would require several more lessons just to refine the fundamental uses.

Tsume withdrew a rope and a kunai. He slid the rope through the eye at the end of the kunai's hilt. He managed to fashion it into a rough knot. The johyo-making process had been giving Tsume a special kind of hell since it was introdu-

"That's close, but not how it- Oh come on. Don't tell me THAT made you jump."

Tsume actually did jump with such grace that he instead fell back into Joseph, who was thankfully present to catch him. That was actually the problem.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Tsume pulled away from his savior/tormentor, "I have half a mind to stab you with this thing!"

"And I hope the other half disagrees," Joseph pushed down Tsume's arm which extended a kunai, "I trust you're ready to go to the port."

"I will be in a few minutes. I need to fix this knot."

"Let me see it," Joseph snatched the johyo and fiddled with the rope and the kunai's eye. Tsume tried to keep up with the motions, but Joseph finished too soon. It was a perfect knot with a large loop to wrap around things if necessary.

Tsume snatched it back and gently inserted it into his obi next to its kunai brethren, "I suppose I'm ready."

The weather outside was raining lightly, but the sun could be seen in the distance. Tsume had left his tabi and geta back in his room. These last few years had taught him that there was not a feeling worse than cold feet ... except maybe having your face torn open by a pirate or whatever that thing was in Mt Fuji. Anyhow, Tsume preferred the feeling of wet feet that would dry quickly over the feeling of wet socks that stayed wet. The wet ground made the decision easier.

"Tsume!" Kennosuke called out, "Tsume, I need a favor."

"What is it?" Tsume may or may not have resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"I heard that you were going to Shimazu Nariakira's estate. Correct?"

"Hai, that I am."

"According to Sensei, Shimazu was the one who took our weapons. If you find my swords, could you return them to me?"

"Sure," Tsume began to walk away.

"What do the swords look like?" Joseph inquired Kennosuke and agitated Tsume.

Kennosuke brushed some wet hair out of his eyes, "The katana belonged to my father. It was about as long as your arm and curved. It has the Maruya name and a Christian cross carved into the nakago {tang}. It also has a very basic tsuba."

Well that was helpful. No, that was the opposite of helpful. Even if Tsume could find a sword so generic, he would need to take apart the hilt to see inside.

Joseph curled his left finger over his chin, "And what about the wakizashi?"

"The tsuba {crossguard} is also very basic. The hilt is wrapped in white silk. The nagako has the names of Kasai Yuzuru and Muramasa Sengo. It belonged to my jisan {uncle}."

Mon flashed in Tsume's eyes, "You did just say Muramasa, right?"

"I did."

"You've been carrying a Muramasa around this whole time?"

Kennosuke's head shifted a bit to focus one eye on Tsume, "Yes?"

"Do you have any idea how valuable those are?"

"I do. It's been in my family longer than Tokugawa has been in Edo."

"No, I mean you could get rich by selling it to the right buyer."

"Yes, I know, but I don't want to sell it. Besides, it isn't enough to make me rich."

"At least not for long," Joseph added.

"But could you find it? Kudasai {Please}?"

Tsume explored the possibilities in his head. If he found it, he could sell it and make some money or return it to Kennosuke and maybe make him less annoying. Alternatively, if he didn't find it, then no harm would be done. Maybe some lost time. No, time was important.

"If we find it, we'll return it to you. Okay, Kenny?" Joseph answered for Tsume.

"Domo arigato {Thank you much}, Kent-san and Washio-san," Kennosuke bowed.

Tsume's eyes rolled, "Hai, we'll do that, but I'd like not to miss Shimazu-san's arrival. Joseph, iku ze {let's go}."

Tsume started toward the dock, not paying attention if Joseph was following. There was nothing to worry about anyway. Tsume heard Joseph's frantic steps closing the distance behind him. Nothing to worry about.

Up ahead Tsume saw something very strange. A samurai on patrol in his armor. Colorful threads held up the metal bands around his chest and legs. Tsume had seen samurai armor once before at Fuji-san, but those were samurai ready for combat. Had the Assassins caused such a stir in Edo that samurai had jumped to their guard? That would make working in secret much more important. No room for error. Tsume didn't like that thought.

"I don't think we'll get there very fast from the ground," Joseph gravitated toward a building, "It would probably be best if we stay on the rooftops."

Tsume nodded.

**April 19, 1855 at Uraga Harbor in Edo, Japan**

"Something wrong, Tsume?" Joseph asked with a look of concern.

Tsume's eyes scoured the colored roofs of the warehouses. He was close to the one where he and Hitsu were orphaned. He would know when he saw its blue roof and siding.

He didn't want to see it. The blood of his parents may still stain the floor. Takahiro-san may even still own it. If he had just not allowed Perry inside, Tsume's parents would still be here. He felt his veins tighten as the memory of that day returned to his mind. While not a day passed without crossing his mind, it remained an unwelcome thought.

"Okay, something is wrong and you're going to tell me," Joseph halted in Tsume's path.

Tsume paused to consider if Joseph could be trusted, "Promise not to tell?"

"On my mother's grave," he raised his hand with an exposed palm. Tsume still had a ways to go before he could hope to understand this American culture and its idioms.

"I assume that means..."

"On my honor."

"Your honor as an Asashin?"

"Just tell me."

Tsume pointed to the blue roofed warehouse, "My parents died there."

Joseph's hand landed on Tsume's shoulder in an attempt of reassurance, "Hey, on the bright side, you're with us now, so..."

"What does it matter? Sensei had already sent Asuka to look for me."

"Maybe she never would have found you."

"It's the same difference. She would have found me eventually and I would get to be an Asashin with a family."

"What about Hitsu?"

"Hitsu would have been spared anyway," Tsume could feel the anger rising in his chest. Hitsu very nearly suffered the same fate as Tsume's numerous other brothers and sisters. Tsume himself was fortunate to have been the firstborn with enough time to become strong before the second child was born.

"I think you're overestimating Sensei's generosity," Joseph removed his hand to face the sparkling sea, "But we should be going now. Time's wasting."

Tsume nodded and followed. At least Joseph was right about that much, but he was wrong about Sensei. The Asashin were the protectors of the weak. Of course they'd have taken in his family. They already took in Hitsu without a problem.

Before Tsume knew it, he and Joseph were staring down the ledge of a warehouse and at the ships docked in the port. Many of them were the old Japanese ships with triangular sails, but others were clearly foreign. Some had large square sails, yet others spit black smoke. He and heard of them before in whispers of Commodore Perry's black ships. Still today, Tsume could not grasp how anyone could make a burning ship float.

Many flags adorned each of these ships. Tsume frankly only recognized those of Tokugawa and the Americans. Some of the others he recognized from his studies, but they did not spark any names in his mind.

Joseph leapt from the rooftop and into a cart of hay below. The moment he stepped out, he was threatened by a man with a pichfork. Tsume could not hear the ensuing argument, but decided to leap into the stack while everyone was distracted.

"Nanda kore {What is this}?!" the hay man screamed upon the second Assassin's landing.

As Tsume looked up, the man's pitchfork now attempted to threaten him. It was not necessarily a successful attempt, as Tsume removed it from his aggressor's hands before returning his feet to the ground. The man fumbled his tool and stared warily at the two Assassins.

"Sumimasen {Excuse me} senpai," Joseph approached the man using his unconvincing Japanese accent, "but I am looking for the freshest eel that Uraga can offer. Could you perhaps tell me where to find it?"

Perhaps it was Joseph's alien formality to a farmer. Perhaps it was the oblivious manner he asked a favor of a man he had just disturbed. Perhaps it was some combination of the two. Whichever it may have been, the man appeared so dumbstruck that he dropped his pitchfork.

"Do you know how much mon you cost me?!" the man screamed. It was questionable if he even knew the answer to that question.

"Five mon?" Joseph reached for the coin purse in his kimono. Even outside of America, Joseph always kept some America with him.

The farmer's face straightened with a slight grin trying not to curl in the corner, "Seven mon."

"I will give you ten if you tell me where to find the eel."

From behind, Tsume heard the iconic blast of a horagai {conch horn}. A ship moved into the shore as men wearing only their fundoshi {underwear} pulled the ship into a frame by a trio of ropes. The waves seemed to make their job rather arduous by pushing and pulling the boat any which way it desired. Yet their patience was rewarded when they managed to tie the ship onto the docks. Water poured from a hole in the ship, ensuring that it would remain seaworthy for its next voyage.

"Hey Tsume," Joseph interrupted, "Follow me. I know where to go."

"For eel?" Tsume followed Joseph past the newly docked ship, "I thought you didn't like fish."

"Well I wasn't going to ask him where we could stalk the daimyo."

"So you asked about eel."

"Yeah. The best of everything will be sold where the rich like to play."

"But we are not in Yoshiwara."

"No, we are in Uraga. Wherever the daimyo land is where we will find the best of everything."

"No, Yoshiwara is where you find the best of everything."

"Last I saw, Yoshiwara didn't have a port."

"When were you in Yoshiwara?"

"Don't worry about it and don't judge me."

"I'm not going to judge you. By the way, how will we know which ship belongs to Shimazu?"

Joseph began searching his kimono for something, "We got a letter from Daniel late last year. Said that Shimazu was building western-style ships. So, my guess is that he would be on one of those."

"But isn't that frowned upon?" Tsume mused aloud, "It would make more sense if he came in a Japanese ship."

"If they cared about being frowned upon, Egawa would still be alive. Nice work on that, by the way. I think the Templars want to force everyone to adjust. Get used to seeing all of this America around."

"That means you won't be missing home for much longer." The thought of Japan becoming American made Tsume cringe inside. Joseph and Sensei were the only Americans he had developed any fondness toward and as starry-eyed as their descriptions of home had mostly been, Tsume could not ignore the accounts they told of the Indo-jin {Indians}. The massacres and slavery and conquest washed away any good that Tsume heard. None of these were anything Tsume ever wanted to see; least of all in Japan. Tsume could not have even considered the idea of slavery just a few years ago. He wished that he had never even learned that much.

The smells of the food booths along the road were beginning to improve. The cheap sushi was being replaced with real, more expensive cooked food. They really were moving in the right direction.

Ahead in the distance, Tsume eyed a ship distinguished by its massive size and excessive number of sails. It towered over the other ships as a mountain of fabric and wood. Innumerable cannons peeked through doors in the hull to threaten any who would dare to harm it. Definitely of foreaign design.

"Impressive, isn't it?" a low unfamiliar voice said from behind. Tsume glanced over to see a man with the bearing of a samurai. His fingers ran down the hairs of his beard as he admired the great foreign vessel. The samurai looked back at Tsume with what looked to be a smile of relief, "Its name is the Shohei-Maru. First western style ship made by the people of Nippon in over two centuries."

"I'be never seen anything like it," Tsume answered, somewhat wary of the samurai.

"It really isn't that great," Joseph tried not to laugh, "It's a modern antique."

The samurai faced the Assassin, "It may not be one of the kurofune {black ships} of Mashuperi, but it is a solid step in the right direction."

"You'll need to make better than this of you want to stand a chance against a modern navy."

"I would argue with that. The Shohei-Maru does not require fuel like the black ships."

"They don't need nearly as much fuel as you think," Joseph pulled and lit his pipe.

"Only enough to turn, I know. Shipbuilding has not changed as much as you think."

"It's definitely changed more than you think."

The samurai smirked, "I would need to study this more. What is your name? I would enjoy more conversations like this with a gaikoku-hito."

"Clayton Maxwell," Joseph puffed to hide his lying mouth.

"Kureiton Makusu-" the samurai stuttered and struggled to say Joseph's fake name as if he had swallowed his own tongue, "Konnichiwa Kureiton-san, I am Sakuma Shozan, but please call me Shozan until I learn to pronounce your full name."

Shozan extended his hand to Joseph. When Joseph shook it in return, Shozan bowed. Tsume was taken aback by this bizarre merging of Japanese and Western customs. Of course the samurai were up to no good.

"And who is your samurai friend?" Shozan motioned to an internally twitching Tsume.

Tsume raised his hand to answer for his friend, "Shiro Tsubasa."

Shozan bowed, "Pleased to meet you... Shiro-san, but have we not met once before?"

"I don't recall," Tsume's blood rushed through his head. The last thing an Assassin ever needed was to be recognized by someone outside of the Order.

"I know I have seen that scar, but I don't remember where."

Garen was right about the scar. Tsume would need to find some way to hide the thing. He covered his most identifiable feature with his hand, "Have you been to Yoshiwara recently?"

"No, too many distractions there. Oh, speaking of distractions, look," Shozan motioned to the boat. A portly man in a very formal brown kimono accompanied by a band of samurai exited his ship and onto Edo's harbor.

"Do you know who that is? That is Shimazu Nariakira, the daimyo of Satsuma," Shozan explained as if he were preparing to become a joyous explosion, "I would give anything for a chance to meet him. Or visit Dejima. I can never decide which is more important."

"Dejima is nice enough," Tsume answered, "and I am also planning on meeting Shimazu while he is still in Edo."

"I envy you greatly, Shiro-san."

"Yes well," Joseph interrupted, "We actually did not come here to meet Shimazu-sama. We just want some good eel right now."

"Indeed. I wish you the best," Shozan bowed, "I am going to try to speak to Shimazu-sama. Sayonara!"

"Sayonara, Shozan-san" Joseph grabbed Tsume's arm and changed his language to English, "What is wrong with you, Tsume?"

"What do you mean?" Tsume answered in the same language, still touching his scar.

"Where do I begin? Your alias was obviously fake. White wing? That's ridiculous. Then you told him that we planned on meeting Shimazu, which no one needed to know. Then you told him about Dejima and Yoshiwara. I should stick a sign on you that reads 'Not an Assassin.'"

Tsume rolled his eyes, "What was I supposed to do?"

"Have a better story. Know who you want people to think you are. Understood?"

"I suppose," Tsume did not want another lecture. He wanted to be treated as an equal to Joseph. After all, Joseph never killed Egawa Hidetatsu, "Do you want to get some food?"

"Yes, but not right now. We need to watch Shimazu," Joseph approached a pair of baskets that rose up to his waist, "Let's slip into these until he's outside of our vision. I think they can hold me, so they can definitely hold you."

Tsume had come to accept the short jokes from Joseph. They weren't particularly funny, but they were the sounds Joseph made whenever he opened his mouth. However, the basket did in fact leave a lot of room for Tsume to move while reeking of rotten fish. It would be nice if Joseph could be wrong a litte more often.

Through the gaps in the basket, Tsume observed Shimazu brushing away Shozan. Then he was approached by an equally chubby man. The man seemed somewhat familiar. The Assassin used his gift to pick up on the conversation.

"Shimazu-sama! How long has it been?" the fat man bowed as deeply as his belly would allow.

Shimazu returned the greeting, "Not long enough, Abe-san. I trust you know that I am more looking forward to seeing my wife than carrying out another meeting so soon."

"Yes, Shimazu-sama. Tokugawa's laws are most cruel. If you would not wish to hold the meeting at my estate, then could we perhaps hold it at your estate?"

"I just told you. I have not seen my wife in months. I would quite enjoy to see her again before we have another meeting."

"Could we speak on the way to your estate?"

"Discretion is a powerful ally. Has it not occurred to you that eyes may be upon us? Do you remember the Asashin from Fuji-san?"

"Hai, I do. However, if we speak in silence, then they would be better to hear us. If we speak in the crowd, our voices would be drowned."

Shimazu beamed.

"That way," Abe continued, "We could also avoid wasting your time to see your wife."

"Now you are thinking like the Asashin. That's good, because I need something of you."

"What is it, Shimazu-sama?"

Tsume only felt a push before his face struck the ground. He crawled from the opening of the basket. To see what had just happened. Joseph was partially laying on the ground as though he had fallen. Fish guts spread over his hands.

"I told you to get out," a stranger said with an empty basket in his arms, "Now you're cleaning it."

"Why did you dump fish on me?!"

"Because you did not listen. Now you will clean."

"Hai!" Joseph threw his hands into the air before switching to English, "Tsume, you follow them. I'll deal with this here. Fucking hate fish..."

Tsume nodded and left Joseph to his own devices. Apparently being knocked down had shut off his gift. No matter. He would need it to identify his targets. He turned the corner to see a very thick crowd congesting the streets. Occasionally, he could spot a flicker of gold amidst the heads which obscured his prey. Because of this, he was having a harder time hearing them as well.

Ahead, he spotted a cart that led to a beam jutting from a wall. From there, it would not be much challenge to climb to the rooftop. Then his only challenge would be keeping hidden in case the Templars checked the rooftops behind them.

From atop the buildings, the Assassin had a much more espionage friendly location.

"What do you mean they saw you?" Shimazu's tone was impatient.

"I set the trap," Abe explained, "but she gave my name."

"That should not matter, so why does it matter?"

"Because they survived..."

"How did they survive? Did you not send your best Shinobi?"

"I did not. You had them."

"Are you blaming me for your failure?"

"I would never dream of it, Shimazu-sama."

"Of course not. I still need those men to deal with those kuso pirates around Kyushu."

"Is there anything you would have me do, Shimazu-sama?"

"The Asashin have been growing in numbers and we have not seen much success against them. Train your shinobi better. I want the Edo Asashin in graves. Find their base. Usurp them from below. I do not care how, but do it quickly and quietly. Understand?"

"Hai, Shimazu-sama.


	13. Bound by the Truth

**November 3, 1855 in Edo, Japan**

"Ohaiyo {Good morning}, Hitsu. What are you painting?" Tsume brushed aside the long branches of the lone sakura tree where his brother liked to get creative.

"A castle," Hitsu smiled over his shoulder before continuing with his brush.

"Edo castle?"

"No, a different castle."

"Which castle?"

Hitsu shrugged. It really did have the kind of sloping walls of Edo castle, but Tsume didn't recognize the white walls and green roofs as Edo castle. Slowly but truly, Hitsu guided the grey paint in a wavy motion across the rooftop. It wasn't a great painting, but it was probably better than most five-year-olds could commit to paper.

"So you're making it up?" Tsume asked.

"Hai."

"What's the story?"

"This is Son Goku," Hitsu pointed to a rather large figure Tsume had assumed to be a tree, "He left treasure here."

"Son Goku?"

"Journey to the West."

"I've never read it."

"Sanzo reads it to me every night."

"What's it about?" Tsume plopped onto the grass.

"It's about a priest and some youkai {monsters} and Son Goku. He's the king of monkeys. He's my favorite. They start in Chuugoku {China}, but they want to go to Indo {India}."

"So, is this castle in Chuugoku or Indo?"

"Nippon {Japan}."

"But you just said they went from Chuugoku to Indo. How did he get to Nippon?"

"I wanted to paint this."

"But you didn't write Journey to the West."

"Yeah, but I like this better."

Tsume smiled and ruffled his brother's hair, "Finish it soon, and I may keep it in my room. I'll be right back."

Hitsu nodded a bit before concern or curiosity grew on his face. Tsume glanced where Hitsu was looking. Through the branches, he saw a woman dressed as a geisha walking toward the Assassin barracks. His first glance suggested Nariko, but a second look showed her to possess a pair of eyes.

Tsume would have made an attempt to greet her, but Joseph was already walking her way with his hands in his pockets and his hood up. Perhaps it would be best of he greeted her alone, in case something were to go awry. They began talking about something indiscernible from this distance. It was a perfect time for his gift to listen from behind the branches.

"But Nariko-san told me to bring this message to Aakuraito," the geisha begged, "It is too important for anyone else to read."

"He isn't seeing anyone right now, but if you'd like to see me, I'm sure we can make that happen."

"Are you sure? It's a very important message."

The traces of a disappointed scowl formed on his face. Tsume wondered what had happened to the Joseph at the station a few years prior, when he tried to teach him how to talk to girls. He seemed so much more experienced back then.

"Well, I was thinking that we could have this very important conversation somewhere else." Joseph muttered, "Alone."

He looked around, possibly trying to hide his pathetic attempt at flirting. Tsume wondered if Daniel had taught him how to do this. Had he intentionally taught him badly? Would he be proud, or ashamed, or amused?

"Yes, in private," she agreed with cheer, "Let us get Aakuraito first, so he can be a part of our private meeting."

Probably not as amused as Tsume was. As a matter of fact, he found this to be an excellent lesson in self-control. Laughing too hard would give away his hiding spot behind the branches.

Joseph scratched the back of his head, "Well, Arkwright-sama isn't seeing anyone right now. I'll just deliver the message for Nariko-san."

"And you promise not to read it?"

"On my honor," Joseph pulled off his hood, exposing his black hair tied in a topknot, "And you should know how important honor is to me."

"I did not know that Asashin have honor," she handed over a paper from her obi.

As Joseph accepted it, their hands seemed to brush one another. He cradled the paper as if it were instead glass. She walked away, flashing him a smile over her shoulder. A sated sigh heaved from his chest.

Some time had passed, and Joseph continued to watch her leaving the area. If Tsume's guess was accurate, he would continue walking until she had left his sight. The time was now. Tsume separated the branches. As Joseph turned about he had a smile that switched from contentment to shock.

"Some charmer you are," Tsume blurted.

"Shit! How long have you been there?" Joseph asked, but his finger accused.

"I came here with you. Remember? Or did she make you forget?"

"Shut up," Joseph brushed past Tsume toward the barracks in the woods.

"You know, I've always wondered why I've never seen you try to talk to a woman and now I get it. You're scared of them."

"Shut up."

"Why do you keep telling me how to talk to girls when you cant even do it?"

"Urusai {Shut up}!" Joseph turned about. His letter crumbled in his fist. His mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for something to say.

"Forget I said anything. Just go. I'm sure it has nothing to do with me anyway."

**November 4, 1855 in Yoshiwara, Japan**

"I know what the letter said, but I was wondering why she never changed the name," Tsume said over the bustle of Yoshiwara's decidedly colorful avenues. As crowded as this place was during the day, the nightlife was an absolute terror of congestion. Smells of perfumes clouded Tsume's nose so brightly that they almost watered his eyes. Nevertheless, he needed to plow through the masses to the point of his mission.

"Even though Ayame no longer owns the place, we still want the Templars to think they own the place. We even got Mama glass eyes from the West," Kennosuke answered.

"Really? I can't imagine her looking... well, not looking terrifying."

"Please show some respect. She did teach you after all."

"You can't argue with the facts."

Kennosuke's head tilted down with shame, "I'm curious why she never mentioned any details in the letter."

"Probably just didn't want any details getting out. She knows she can trust us."

Kennosuke did not answer. He was likely too busy looking at the signs for Sakura Okiya. He recalled red frames, pink lanterns, and some other stuff he could not be bothered to care about.

"Here we are," Kennosuke drew Tsume's attention to the green building with vibrant green frames and blood red lanterns.

"This must be it. You can definitely tell that whoever put it together must have been blind."

Tsume's comment had gone unnoticed for almost a whole second before a force, presumably Kennosuke's fist, had struck him from behind.

"Alright, I'm sorry," Tsume was not sorry, "I'll show some respect. Just lead the way, ki-sama {honored sir}."

The two were greeted in the unchanged interior by a geisha, who led them to Nariko's room. Inside, Nariko sat on her knees in the same place where Ayame had sat the last time Tsume was here. She touched a cup to the lip of the teapot before filling it with tea. She extended a cup to Kennosuke first, then repeated for Tsume.

"We finally have some information on Abe Masahiro's plans," her voice cracked with a grimness that was unusual, even for the typically solemn Nariko.

"And?" Tsume asked.

"All we know is that one of our clients is involved with him in some way. Templars have been very suspicious when they come to us lately. It is a wonder that we have anything so soon."

"Then why are we here?"

"Because we need to get more information from him. My girls can only do so much before he gets quiet. I think now as good a time as any to force it from him."

"And your girls can't do that?"

"Not if we don't want to make ourselves targets. I want you to find him. Bring him to the location on the back of the letter I sent you."

"There was nothing on the back."

"Only you would be able to read it."

Tsume's brow perked. He was not aware that his gift could see anything invisible like that. He thought it would only show him directions and peoples' value to him.

Nariko continued, "That was why I asked for you specifically, Tsume. We need to work in absolute secrecy. Kennosuke, I want you to be the one who captures him. You are not nearly as notorious as Tsume or his scar."

"How do we catch him?" Kennosuke took a drink without breaking eye contact.

"Isolate him. Make sure he has been drinking sake. The man is a hedonistic fool, so that should not be very hard," Nariko removed a bag from her obi, "Inside this is a cloth with a few drops of a sleep agent. You will cover his mouth with it until he falls asleep."

Tsume pried open the bag and fingered its contents. As he rummaged through the folds for the moisture, a familiar scent struck his nose. He sniffed his finger for the sake of certainty. It was sweet. In fact, it was so sweet that the room blurred for a moment which caused him to shudder.

"Kennosuke," Tsume extended his finger to his comrade, "It's the stuff from Fuji."

Kennosuke shifted a glare from Tsume's hand to his eyes, making very clear that he had no intention of smelling anything, "Okā-san, we will not disappoint you."

On the way out, Tsume observed some of the places where he had fought the shinobi during his last visit. He was glad to see that the blood had been cleaned. A minor glance through his gift showed all of the stains as if they were still new. He did not have time to examine this further though.

Outside on the rooftops, Tsume and Kennosuke observed Yoshiwara's daily celebration from the rooftop. Below, drunkards and rich men cheered and sang along the brewery street, unaware they were being scanned by gifted eyes.

"Nothing yet," Tsume reported.

"Not even a trail?" Kennosuke checked.

"Yes, I saw a trail, but I didn't think it would lead us to the guy. That's why I didn't tell you."

"Okā-san says he's a drinker."

"And that is why we are watching the brewery street instead of the flower gardens."

"Exactly. Keep looking."

"We're in Yoshiwara! Everyone is a hedonist here!"

"Would he be on the oiran {prostitute} street?"

"I would love to check," Tsume shut off his gift, "We have all night thanks to my gift of knowledge and your gift of humor."

"Now is not the time for humor."

"Thanks for letting me know," Tsume jumped over to the next roof without checking if his partner had followed. He knew he would, so that was not an issue.

Within seconds, Tsume spotted a golden beacon near the corner of an oiran house. Tsume pointed "Found him."

"Which one?" Kennosuke leaned forward.

"The one by the brothel."

"Tsume, I need you to be more specific."

"The man surrounded by pretty girls."

"Tsume."

"At the corner of Akai Kitsune. There's only one man at the corner of Akai Kitsune. He is the man we are looking for. There is no one else he could be."

"Okay, I'm going down. Cover me."

Kennosuke dropped himself into an alley and Templar had already strayed and was moving toward the same alley, possibly on his way to a brewery. With the cloth in hand, the Assassin approached the him, "Excuse me, but could you help me identify this perfume?"

The target leaned in for a sniff. As he inhaled, Kennosuke pressed the cloth into his mouth. The Templar gasped in the rest of the sleep agent.

Kennosuke caught his fall and motioned to Tsume, "Come here. Where do we need to take him?"

"Home," Tsume answered.

Kennosuke stiffened with a puzzled look, "Our home?"

"Yes, our home. We want to steal all of our belongings before we set him free. Obviously his home."

"I'm sorry, Tsume, but we don't know where he lives and there could be Templars there."

Tsume stared back at Kennosuke, trying to withhold yet another sarcastic comment. He could only give so many in one day. He hoped that maybe there were some way he could communicate his idea with his face instead of words anyone could hear.

"Tsume? Are you okay?" Kennosuke added concern to his confusion.

"Yes, but our friend Yuudai is drunk and has passed out," Tsume pulled up the unnamed Templar's arm, "We need to take him home where he can sleep."

"I don't remember Oka-san calling him Yuudai. Are you sure you're okay?"

Tsume felt a vessel in his head tense. This charade would be much easier with Joseph. "Yes, Takahiro, I am fine. It is Yuudai who needs help," Tsume drew Nariko's letter from his kimono, "He gave me a map just in case of this occasion."

"Takahiro isn't here and that's Oka-san's lett-" Kennosuke's eyes were widened by what Tsume believed to be an overdue realization, "Oh, right. Yes, we must get our friend home."

Tsume heaved the Templar's arm over his shoulders, as did Kennosuke. They weaved slowly through the Yoshiwara nighttime bustle, sometimes moving around people. Occasionally, they saw other men carrying drunk friends away from the district. Once, he spotted two men carry a samurai toward the brothels. His plan seemed to be working, since the Assassins never attracted more than a second glance.

The Assassins had been out of Yoshiwara with their hostage for about an hour until they reached the destination on Nariko's map. It was an old house. The once-painted frame had cracked in some places. Holes in the wall had been eaten out by mice and rats and other such vermin. Moonlight filled in some cracks, but left even more completely dark. Some graffiti had been painted to the walls by the braver souls of Edo.

It stood as a weathered testament to Japanese superstition. Tsume remembered this house from several years back. He had never visited, but he knew that it was reported to be haunted. Some people said that screaming would occasionally emanate from this building. He felt he would soon know why.

"That looks... comfortable," Tsume said aloud.

"No it doesn't," Kennosuke responded.

"I heard that it's haunted."

"No it isn't."

"Then why aren't you going in?"

Kennosuke adjusted his grip on the man they both carried, "Because you aren't going in."

"Don't you believe in ghosts? After all, you believe in stranger things."

"Of course I do, but this place isn't haunted."

Tsume approached the door first. He gripped the frame where he would normally slide it open, but it held fast. He kicked the bottom to straighten it, but rammed his foot through instead. Undeterred he stepped back and forced his weight onto the door, 'opening' it for both Assassins and their prisoner.

With his hands and knees firmly on the splinter-and-dust-covered floor, Tsume lifted himself upright. The interior was spotless in the sense that it was free of graffiti. The walls featured handprints stained brown by dry blood; no footprints, though. On the corner of the wall were ridges spaced evenly. Tsume determined them to be claw marks. He never gave much stock to the supernatural except for that incident at Fuji, so someone must have wanted this place to look haunted.

"Where other men blindly follow the truth, remember," a voice not unlike Nariko echoed from somewhere in the house.

"Nothing is true," Tsume responded by instinct.

"Where other men are limited by morality or law," the voice repeated predictably.

"Everything is permitted," Kennosuke announced as he entered the premises.

"The dog does not follow what he can see, but what he cannot see," Nariko riddled.

Tsume never liked these riddles, because they complicated things that had no right to be complicated. What was this one supposed to mean? Perhaps something to do with-

"Tsume," Kennosuke interrupted the thought, "Your gift."

"Kennosuke, when I need your help, I will ask for your help," Tsume snarled as he switched on his gift.

The wall became white except for the bloody placed his hands on the stains which he noticed fit quite well. He pressed into the corner, causing the wall to give way … inward. He glanced back at Kennosuke, who nodded for him to proceed.

Around the wall moved until the Assassins and their captive stood in a dark room lit only by the moon's appearance through holes in the roof. Nariko waited there on for them with a rosary wrapped around her hand. Tsume wished he could have found that unusual, but something about Kennosuke and Nariko kept them in prayer whenever they had spare time. Family ties? Possibly.

This room was completely plain except for the two boards which extended from the walls. Ropes lay splayed and possibly tangled across the floor. Something about them menaced Tsume as his gift came off.

"Tsume, I want you to tie the ropes to the wall," Nariko instructed, "Kennosuke-chan, strip him of his clothes. You and I will tie him. But first, I want you to take these masks."

**One Hour Later**

Tsume pulled the rope taut, suspending the man by his wrists as his knees hovered barely above the ground. He would be naked were it not for the web of rope that wrapped his body and exposed large patches of pale skin on his torso. It already was a gruesome sight to behold, and Tsume expected it would only get much worse.

With a smooth motion, Tsume pulled the white theater mask from behind his head to gaze into it. It did not gaze back, but the hollow eyes gave something much worse. Another tingle ran up his arms. He didn't know why he'd even considered looking at the terrible thing. As harmless as this mask was to him, it was still horrid. He slid it over his face so he wouldn't see it. Hopefully it would be yet more unsettling to the Templar.

"Kennosuke, remove the cloth. We need him to talk now," Nariko commanded.

Kennosuke's hand gently grasped the rag in the man's mouth. One swift motion later, his jaws were unstuffed and spilled saliva to the floor. Only seconds passed before his head started to stir. He uttered a sick groan and pressed his eyes open and shut until he could see again.

He took in the torchlit room with the grimace of the world's hardest hangover. Disgust turned to fear when he spotted his masked captors. Fear turned to excitement when he noticed the ropes which bound him to the walls had also tied his flesh tight.

The Templar grinned at the Assassins with the same eyes Rangiku had before seducing Tsume, "I don't know what I did to deserve this. I would like to know, so this can happen more."

"What is Abe Masahiro planning?" Nariko hissed.

"I'm sorry," he added puzzlement to his arousal, "but I try to keep my business and personal lives separate."

She tapped Tsume's shoulder, "Push him, but be gentle."

"Don't listen to her," he seethed, "I like it rough."

Tsume placed a hand on the rope around the Templar's sternum. With very slight pressure, he saw the ropes press into his skin just as slightly.

The Templar shuddered in delight, "Look, I don't know who you are, but if you keep this going long enough, I'll tell you whatever you want." Tsume's gut knotted itself. Was this Templar so depraved that even interrogation was too tame? Was his loyalty so weak that a night of... ugh... pleasure... would be enough to make him talk? Was this process even still necessary? Was he really aroused by this? Tsume almost looked down to check, but spared his eyes the gross curiosity.

Nariko reached her hand to touch his neck with her fingertips. The Templar grinned with a malicious lust that sought to envelop Nariko in any way he could find. He nibbled her hand, causing her to shove him by his throat.

"He isn't lying," Nariko stated as though nothing had just happened. "Who is asking? Abe-sama has many enemies."

"It would not change the answer."

"Then you don't know Abe-sama."

Nariko snapped about and seized his mouth, "Then you will tell me everything."

She was very adept for a blind woman. Tsume knew it was her gift, but his own gift was probably not nearly so powerful. Or was it? He would need to find out somehow, but he wasn't willing to gouge out his eyes.

"I want to know who's paying you first," he slurred, "Tokugawa? Aakuraito {Arkwright}? Endo?"

"All of them. Now tell me what you know."

"Not until I know your employer."

Nariko stepped forward, "You do not get to know. You do not deserve to know. You will talk."

The Templar leaned his neck closer to Nariko's face, "Those eyes... There are none... I remember now..."

"What do you remember?" Nariko seethed.

"A story about a woman. A Kirishitan. Her husband was killed for his religion, but she only lost her eyes. She promised to practice Shinto instead. Said she would raise her son to be a priest. You?"

A knife emerged from her sleeve. She offered it to Kennosuke, "Cut him near the rope."

"So you really are that woman," the Templar continued, despite Kennosuke's advance, "Here I thought that was just a legend. So you work for Endo. What is he plan-"

Kennosuke cut alongside a rope on the man's belly. Blood seeped through, finding its way down to the earth. The Templar's face shuddered with what was either pain or ecstasy, but was likely a combination of the two.

Tsume cracked his own knuckles, "We will be asking the questions here."

Nariko's hand cautioned Tsume to stop. "Only on my orders," she commanded.

"So what does Endo want to know?"

"He wants to know everything. Aakuraito and Tokugawa are just as curious," she leaned closer to his face, "But if it's a night you want, I can give you several."

The Templar beamed to her mask.

**November 11, 1855 in Edo, Japan**

The hanging Templar's face cried dry tears, "No more pepper..." his pleas descended to desperate whispers. Tsume was unsure of how he could continue to breathe at this point.

"Cut him down," Nariko commanded of Tsume.

With a single slice from Tsume's sword to a knot on the wall, the Templar fell like a flag. Tsume crossed the room to chop the next knot, which dropped the man into to the pile of filth that he had made below. He did not make much of a sound since his body had been shriveled by what Tsume would have called a street diet. The prisoner huddled to the wooden boards below as if they gave him some comfort. This was not new behavior. Whenever Nariko felt him getting closer to the truth, the prisoner would be cut free. It was her way of controlling his pain. When she inevitably deemed his confessions dishonest or insufficient, he would be tied again, each time with less slack from which to hang. Tsume decided this to be a good time to stop mocking her eyes.

"Now tell me what Abe is planning," Nariko gingerly guided his jaw upward, "and we will not hurt you again."

"He wants to kill the Asashin and the Kirishitan."

Something did not sound right about that in Tsume's ears. He knew that some Christian ministers would be meeting with Abe soon to discuss religious tolerance. Abe often spoke against them, almost as loudly as Egawa would.

Kennosuke stepped in, "but how?"

"With a trap," the Templar wheezed, "Kill them … Asashin cannot stop ... shinobi ... ready."

"When? Where?"

"Yamanote," from the dried corners of the Templar's mouth, a smile cracked, "Today."

Tsume choked on his heart for a moment. Joseph and the others Assassins would be watching the meeting. If the whole meeting was a trap, then they would already be dead. Tsume tried to shrug the thought.

The Templar collapsed onto Nariko's lap, but she clasped him by the throat. His limbs did little but to wiggle from his shoulders instead of offer resistance. When Nariko released his last bits of life from her grip, he dropped limp to the floor again.

"Okāsan," Kennosuke approached his mother, "We should go."

"My girls will take care of this mess," she replied, "I'll send this to Aokigahara. You two go to Yamanote. Your brothers need you there."

"I'm not walking into a trap."

"When the wolves attack a feeding tiger, did they fall to the tiger's trap?"

Tsume bowed and made his way outside. Who was he to argue with the gift of knowledge?


	14. Turn the Other Cheek

**November 11, 1855 in Edo, Japan**

Kennosuke and Tsume dashed through the streets of Edo. The populace opened paths for the Assassins and their horses on the wider streets. At no point did Tsume need to try to avoid people to any great extent.

Tsume pressed his heels into the horse's sides with the hope to squeeze more speed out of the animal, but it could move no faster than it already was. He tried not to think of the condition the other Assassins could be in, especially Joseph. Hurt would not be satisfactory to the Templars. Those kuso Templars wanted this to be like the Egawa incident but with Assassins instead of books... They would also kill Christians. Tsume dug his foot deeper.

Only a few hour-long minutes had passed before both Assassins arrived to a great wooden wall held together by bronze dragons down the center. It stood as a contrast to the red bamboo walls which only reached half so high. Tsume recognized it immediately as the entrance to Yamanote. Only the daimyo {nobles} could afford something so tasteless.

Unfortunately, it was nothing Tsume could climb. The horse beneath him served away from the gate, so he guided it along the much shorter walls. Tsume spurred the horse before he jumped from the stirrups to the saddle. He rose to a standing position atop the horse. His arms flayed in every which direction to try to maintain his balance.

Tsume quickly tied a knot around the ring of his kunai to fashion a johyo. He tossed it to the jagged bamboo teeth which lined the upper fence. The knife held fast atop the wall and pulled the rope taut.

With a line wrapped around his fist, Tsume jumped from the still-running horse to the wall. With a twist of his feet, he was over the wall without being skewered by bamboo. With a quick roll, he landed safely near an empty town square, across which samurai appeared to be walking around a very tight crowd of frightened faces. With a quick wrapping and grasp of the handle, his johyo was now a combat knife with a rope.

Ahead, an armored samurai pulled a young man from the crowd and began shouting. Tsume could barely understand the words, but the scene was familiar enough that he didn't need to understand much else. The samurai may or may not have yelled "Kirishitan {Christian}," and that was enough to ally him with the enemies of the Assassins.

He approached the scene without concerning his surroundings. The samurai pulled something too small for Tsume to identify from this distance from the man's neck and displayed it to the crowd. This situation was about as fucked as it could be anyway. A massive naginata {great sword} gleamed in the sunlight over the man's head.

Tsume's walk escalated to a run. He would not be responsible for the loss of an innoce- the loss of another innocent life. A pair of samurai attempted to block him, but the deadliness of a kunai and hidden blade were enough that he disposed of both enemies without slowing down.

Then the world stopped with a wail so loud it pierced the heavens. An elderly woman emerged to kneel over the dead man. Whether she was hunched or not, Tsume could not tell, but her wrinkles conveyed an enormous pain. This was different from the usual depressed pain of the old, because it felt sudden.

Tsume did not have time to watch though. He needed to allow her to grieve the only way he knew: by killing the samurai. A johyo thrown to the neck did not do anything to pierce his armor, but it did pierce his focus as evidenced by the grotesque glare of the bronze mask that now threatened the Assassin's very existence.

"Baka {Idiot}!" Tsume improvised, "Have you found Yesu Kirisuto {Jesus Christ}?"

"Men, stand down," the samurai commanded to his unarmored subordinates whom Tsume had just noticed to be gathering around him, "the Asashin is mine."

Even if Tsume could not see the gradually advancing lobster-like samurai, he could have heard that metal clanking from across the square. He tucked his johyo into his obi and lowered to a combat stance. His right hand shifted to the hilt of his sword, but his left was ready to unsheathe his hidden blade.

The naginata's blade kept low to the ground with the curve pointing upward. It was a solid defensive position, much akin to a cobra reared to strike. However, it left a grave oversight to the armpit area between the pauldrons and breastplate. Tsume knew how to attack after his prey took just a. Few. More steps.

Tsume kicked the naginata aside using the armor on his shin. As planned, this opened an exposed spot below the samurai's naginata coming back. Tsume moved his face out of the way, but it still pushed its dull end into his throat. He stumbled back onto the stone pavement on this sword arm. A sear burst from his elbow to his fingertips, but his sword miraculously did not fall. From the ground, he charged into his opponent shoulder-first. While this failed to knock the samurai down, it did succeed in injuring Tsume's upper arm.

The samurai gripped Tsume's right arm and pulled him up. Tsume's feet raised from the ground and flailed wildly in random directions. Tsume jammed his hidden blade into the samurai's bicep, dropping himself to the road again.

A large naginata blade swept the area, but Tsume rolled to the right and avoided taking another hit. His sword quickly found its way to his sheath. Until his right improved, his left was still good and his hidden blade was still sharp.

Tsume charged again, grabbing the samurai's naginata, but was met with a headbutt from a helmet. He stepped back a bit to try to shed his newly blurred vision. A pair of hands siezed each of Tsume's arms. He tried to squirm free, but they held fast and tight.

"What happened to them?" Tsume slurred, "The Kirishitan. What happened to them?"

"Those kusottare who want to destroy our way of life? We killed them," the samurai answered, "You-"

_Goro! Goro! Goro!_ A crack of thunder filled the plaza. The samurai before and behind Tsume grew heavily limp. Any possibly apathetic civilians had either grown curious or fearful or were samurai. Tsume removed himself from the dead weight and allowed his former captor to unite with the ground where he leaked blood from a fresh hole in his body.

"Kid, you all right?" a voice Tsume recognized to be Garen's asked.

"I'm fine, but you could have let him finish," Tsume answered.

"I think he said all he needed to say," Garen raised his bayonet to a group of samurai who approached from the left.

Meanwhile, a larger team of too many encroached from the right. Approximately one in four of them wore heavy armor. All of them had some kind of weapon drawn. Those in the armor carried ono {axes} or kanabo {maces} or nodachi {great swords} instead of the usual katana. It certainly felt like Fuji all over again, but with fewer allies and in public.

Garen aimed his rifle to the samurai, "Washio, I'm going to find the mark's house. Care to join me?"

"If you can get me out of this, I'm yours."

Tsume stood to Garen's back and reached for his kunai, "I think I can kill a few of the unarmored samurai, but I apparently have more trouble with armor than I expected."

"That should work. The others will have a hard time following."

Tsume nodded and took aim. He only had four kunai, so he would need to make each shot count. He also only had one johyo. He still needed to make that thing more useful. The limited range was a problem and the rope- _Goro!_ _Goro!_

Tsume shuddered. He still had not adjusted to the thunderclap produced by those guns. He especially didn't like it so close to his head.

If Garen was clearing out the path, Tsume had best hurry with thinning the pursuers. He flung a kunai into one unarmored samurai. It killed. The next shot missed. The third fumbled and struck with the dull end. The fourth hit the leg, and thus did not kill. Live targets should not have been more complex than wooden boards.

_Goro!_ _Goro!_

Garen pulled Tsume's shoulder, "Let's go!"

Ahead, the hostile swords appeared as bared teeth. Four had already fallen to Garen's rifle, but the rest held undaunted. Tsume charged in with his own sword bare, confident it would protect him from a steel bite.

A samurai swung a nodachi, but Tsume dove underneath and continued running. Abe had not fled this way, so Garen must have had a plan.

When Garen scaled a building, Tsume was quick to follow. The samurai still pursued from below, but the Assassins' training had taught them much about evasion. They knew that safety existed in altitude.

"What glory is mine," a voice said with murderous tone, "dispatcher of an Asashin."

An unarmored samurai who had climbed to the rooftop unsheathed his blade. Tsume heard a clicking sound behind him. It was followed by the thunder of Garen's gun and the samurai falling dead.

"Tsume, come on!" Garen called. He had already begun climbing a nearby tower. Tsume understood well enough to follow. From atop the tower, they would be able to scout the area and find the best way to Abe's residence. The plan seemed solid enough.

Tsume hoisted himself onto the roof. Garen had not waited for him. Instead, he stood over the edge, observing the crowd below.

The gates were closed and guarded to prevent anyone from escaping. Samurai marched around the civilians, occasionally pulling one out for questioning.

"So what's the plan?" Tsume asked.

"Seems as good a time as any to start a riot."

"You're kidding, right? Won't that draw attention?"

"If we're slow, yeah. We wont be slow," Garen glared past Tsume's eyes and into his soul, "will we?"

"Certainly not," Tsume pondered for a moment for something that he could use to rile a crowd, "a few geisha owe me a favor. We could maybe use them as cover."

"We would need to find them first. Too risky. Maybe... no. We need to slip in and get it started ourselves."

"How do we slip in? They can see everything."

"The people are on our side. Remember Egawa?"

"I do. You think we can pull it again?"

"Shit. I don't even think we did it right the first time," Garen slung his rifle across his torso, "just follow my lead."

He jumped down a story to a roof below. Tsume followed close behind. Garen did not move with the same grace as Joseph. When he jumped, he landed on both feet and picked up immediately, instead of including his hands. He did not move upwards very much, and preferred to keep toward the ground. His elbows kept close to his chest, which was better for shoving a path through a crowd than running in the open.

Shortly after hitting the street, the buildings opened Tsume and Garen to a clearing. No longer hidden by the walls and corners, the Assassins put up their hands as if to surrender themselves. The samurai approached, hands on their hilts.

"Edo! Listen to me!" Garen shouted, "Tokugawa wants to keep you down! We, the Asashin, want to free you!"

A samurai swung his sword, but Garen countered with his hidden blade.

"He says you are weak, but we say you are strong!"

An armored samurai came with a nodachi, but Garen's bayonet freed blood from his throat.

"Fight with me!"

The crowd was silent and still.

"IKU ZE!"

Tsume was now surrounded on all sides by many samurai with weapons varying from studded kanabo to long yari {spears} to the boring old katana. He tried to remember his training. Sensei said that a short weapon was often preferable to a long one when surrounded on all sides. Fine. He reached for his wakizashi.

An armored samurai with a kanabo moved first. The massive club was a miss, but it left an opening. Tsume moved in to stab at the chest, but was caught by a free hand. It pressed into his tendons and released his sword to the ground. It couldn't stop the hidden blade, though. With one enemy down, Tsume only had ... too many to go.

Another came with a yari. Tsume sidestepped and pushed the butt of the spear into the samurai's jaw before flipping the blade into his head. Yet another attacked with a nodachi. Tsume tried to block it, but the sheer size of the blade shattered the yari's shaft. His foot met the samurai's groin before the spearhead was shoved into his clavicle.

Tsume then drew his sword. He feinted toward one samurai in full armor. When the samurai guarded, Tsume's hidden blade rose through his armpit. Now, an escape route showed itself in the form of a nearby alley. Tsume kicked the samurai into his allies and dashed for the exit.

Hopefully, Garen would be okay. Hopefully, Tsume's flight would be unimpeded. Hopefully, the people would understand what the Assassins were doing for them.

Tsume jumped through stalls and ran through houses. From door to door, the voices of the chase became quieter and quieter. When they had fully ceased, Tsume stopped at a bench. Things were going mostly according to plan still, but plans never worked in the end according to Sensei, Asuka, and Nariko's history lessons.

He leaned forward to observe his temporary sanctuary. The smell alone gave away its identity as a food street. The people here shopped about and ate as if they were completely ignorant to the situation at hand. It was reassuring in a way, but it was unhelpful. The Assassins really did want to free the people from Tokugawa, but the Templars' plans took priority, as they always had. More appreciation from the people -perhaps in the form of over a dozen recruits or some riots when they were needed- would make defending them so much easier.

Something thunked over Tsume's shoulder. He glanced long enough to see that it was a shuriken, which could only signal the presence of shinobi. Tsume stood and assumed his iaido stance with a hand on his hilt. Ahead, he thought he saw a shinobi, but it could also have been a man's shadow.

Tsume started away anyway. Wherever shinobi were, he did not wish to be. While a team of shinobi had nothing against a single Assassin, the Templars were ready today. Today would be a bad day to operate alone.

Wherever Tsume looked for a getaway, another Shinobi seemed to appear. He tried to swallow his fear, but it had already tried his throat. He clenched the sword in his right hand and extended the blade under his left. Without his knives or wakizashi, he didn't have any other options.

Their own swords remained sheathed as well. Tsume would not be so easily able to predict an attack when he could not even see where their blades were kept. Some reached for their backs. Others reached for their kimono. Others kept their hands near their legs. It didn't tell him much, but it told him enough.

Tsume scanned about to reassess the situation. He never heard any footsteps approach his direction, but such guesses were untrustworthy. Kuso. Surely this would not be the way he died. The white death could not be marred by black.

The collective attention of the Shinobi moved to a spot behind Tsume accompanied by a gagging sound. When he turned about to inspect it, his stomach turned with him. A shinobi hung by rope from a stray beam. An Assassin recruit with a white-wrapped face (not unlike a shinobi hood) dug a kunai into the ground. A pair of knives flew from his hands and killed two more shinobi.

While his Templar foes were distracted, Tsume took his moment to strike. He began with one whose sword was probably on his back. An exposed belly was too easy of a weakness to leave untouched. The next had his hand near his leg. A blade to his throat was enough.

Unfortunately, the Kami {gods} did not see fit to allow Tsume a third free kill like his fellow recruit had received. When a shinobi swung from the waist, it was parried as Tsume was instructed. His sword cleaved cleanly into Templar ribs. Another came from the side, but a blade to his temple was more than enough to suppress that threat. Footsteps approached quickly behind. Tsume turned to react, but his arm was pulled behind. He had been warned of this technique from Sensei. He stepped to the side as his own sword was guided away from own torso. When he saw the shinobi's eyes, his hidden blade had found its target.

"That's good technique, Tsume," the recruit complimented with a female voice, "you're getting better."

"I see you took my advice and covered those scars, Rangiku," Tsume replied.

She did not honor that with a verbal reply, but a glare instead. Or at least as much of a glare as she could manage.

"Okay. I'm sorry," Tsume wiped his bloody sword into the red of his obi to sheathe it, "say, have you ever wondered why we wear white? I know it's the color of death, but it seems counter intuitive when you're covered in blood."

Again, silence.

"Okay, I'm sorry for making fun of your sca-"

Her bloodied hand covered his mouth as she pulled him to an alley. "Do you hear that?" she whispered.

Tsume shook his head negative.

"Do you know where to find Abe?" her tone kept between noiseless and comprehensible.

Tsume nodded.

"Good, because I do not. They're coming for us, so I will protect you. We need to hurry," she released Tsume's mouth, "lead the way."

The Assassins stepped back into the street, but Tsume had lost his bearings amidst all of the chaos. He started for a stack of boxes which would grant easy access to the rooftops. From there, he could see the route to the daimyo estates much more easily. Getting there would be no problem at all. He checked behind for the red and white mess of Rangiku. She had certainly followed.

The two Assassins ran as their legs would take them. Between city blocks, they would fly. The residential area was not more than a few blocks away now. Tsume was almost excited to see the palaces if for no reason other than the fact that he had never seen them.

_Goro!_ Tsume braked. Was Garen nearby? Rangiku was no longer in pursuit. She had been replaced by a shinobi with a smoking gun. The Templar charged but was tripped and subsequently killed by Tsume's hidden blade.

Tsume checked over the edge of the gilding to confirm his fear. Rangiku lay in a growing pool of blood in an alley below. She must have been sho- _Goro!_

Another shinobi shot another gun. About a half dozen black-clad Templars were appearing from under the roofs or the streets below. This was a good time for a daring escape.

And escape he did. Tsume immediately dove into the street below, sure to roll and cushion his fall. He would need to remember this place to come back for Rangiku later, but now was not the time for such concerns. Tsume's own survival took precedent. He dashed toward the palaces, glancing over his shoulder to see if any Templars were following. They were.

Entering the Daimyos' residential area was a decision Tsume immediately regretted. The space between each palace was massive, not to mention the fact that each palace was larger than most of the temples in Asakusa. Hiding places must have been a premium here.

Tsume swung around a pole and scurried up a wall. He needed to shake them somehow. Down below, he looked for some kind of respite from the malicious eyes of his enemies. He continued to scale the mansion, careful not to stay in one place too long. If the Japanese Templars had, at any point, acquired western rifles, then Tsume would certainly not last very long. The same would apply if a samurai still carried his yumi {bow}, but that was less likely. Nevertheless, his path was no doubt obvious, since he almost certainly left a red trail up the white wall.

When Tsume reached the top, his eyes were met with the horror of ever pursuant enmity. Shinobi were not far behind. Tsume tried to use his gift to find the comforting white aura of a hiding spot. He tried. He did not succeed.

Soon, he spotted something. Fallen brown leaves had been swept into a pile. Hopefully, it would be deep enough to accommodate a landing from three stories up. The shinobi were still close. No time to think.

Upon impact, Tsume wasted no time in fleeing the scene. He crossed a wall, which attracted attention from local samurai. They must have been on patrol for their individual daimyo.

He weaved between walls and houses as best he could. Occasionally, he would check his trail. He would spot shinobi occasionally, but it was becoming less frequent. Still, he needed something to lose their eyes.

One thing Tsume couldn't help but to notice was how the samurai did not pursue him beyond the premises of a daimyo. That must have been their jurisdiction. He needed to find a way to use this to his advantage.

"Boy! Over here!" a gruff voice commanded.

Tsume froze in his tracks. A samurai was trying to get his attention despite his bloody white robes and Assassin hood. The samurai caught him by the shoulders, "Nanda kore {What the hell}? What is wrong?"

"Men in black. Shinobi," Tsume panted, "they're coming for me. I think I got away."

"Are you an Asashin?"

"Can I trust you if I am?"

"Date-Sama does not allow strangers without his personal permission. What is your name?"

"Shiro."

"I am Matsuo. Might those be the men in black?" Matsuo pointed to the street.

Tsume glanced behind. Kuso. The shinobi were within sight. They most certainly could see him as well.

"You're no longer a stranger," Matsuo reached for his sword, "but do me a favor and don't hide in the well."

"Hai, Matsuo-san," Tsume escaped around the wall, hoping to shed his trail long enough to guide attention away from this mansion.

Tsume leapt over the wall and into... hot water. He pulled his face from the spring to see a fat naked man wading through the pool toward his surprise guest. Over his shoulder was a naked woman covering herself with only her arms.

"What is going on here?" the man demanded.

"It's okay, I'm not a stranger," Tsume threw his hands up in surrender, "Matsuo said so himself."

The man grabbed Tsume's kimono and snarled so closely that Tsume could smell his last fishy meal, "I decide who is a stranger and who is not. Tell me why I shouldn't have you both killed."

Tsume's hidden blade pressed bloodlessly to the man's throat, "Because I am an Asashin, but I have no reason to harm you. If you want a fight, I can promise you will not receive one."

"Asashin you say?"

"Hai. Shinobi are hunting me."

The man released Tsume and looked to the woman, "Tsunahime, could you get some food for our guest? By the way, I am Date Yoshikuni. Konnichiwa. I apologize for the rudeness."

"I don't know if I have time for food," Tsume was confused by this sudden hospitality, "but I'm on a mission."

"Of course you are. Well, I suppose I can eat the food myself. Is there anything else you may need?"

"I lost my wakizashi earlier."

"Understood. Tsunahime, could you go to the armory and bring me a yoroi-toshi {armor piercer}?"

"That isn't a wakizashi."

"Armored samurai walk the streets. A wakizashi will mot be as much help to you. Who is your target?"

"I am not allowed to say."

"Abe Masahiro."

"Possibly."

"He was meeting with some Kirishitan leaders today. Now you are escaping shinobi and filling my bath with blood," he smiled, "coincidences do not exist around the Asashin. Now please step out."

"Oh yes, certainly," Tsume walked out of the spring. While the spring's water was warm, the autumn wind did not allow it to remain such. It turned Tsume's tabi cold and soggy, so he did what he always did before becoming an Assassin and removed them.

As Tsume slipped his geta back onto his otherwise bare feet, Date's wife had returned from the house, now fully clothed and carrying a straight sheath.

Her husband approached with his nudity on full display, "It is a special kind of tanto {dagger}. It can kill men through even the toughest armor."

Tsume accepted the gift and drew it. The blade tapered along a straight back into a delicate needle. It was not much shorter than Tsume's forearm.

"But it's heavier than my wakizashi," Tsume mumbled, "it cannot be very maneuverable."

"A heavy blade will cut thick armor that a light blade could not. The same could be said for statements, which is why I believe you work in the day."

"Suddenly, American swords make sense to me."

"I'm sorry, but what?"

"Nothing... I don't work for Amerika-Jin. I do have a question for you."

"Ask away."

"I don't always question charity, but why are you helping me? I almost killed you."

Date beamed with his eyes wide, "The Asashin have always defended the kakure Kirishitan {hidden Christians}. I want you to know that I still support our native Asashin even if I do not like Aakuraito {Arkwright}."

"How do you know him?"

"That is not important right now. I doubt Abe will kill himself soon. Tenpuraa {Templars} are not prone to harakiri. Check with Matsuo on your way out," Date bowed, "but please come back soon. I would like some compensation for bleeding into my bath."

"I always repay kindness," Tsume bowed in return.

"Do you need anything else?"

"Rangiku, she's one of us and she was shot not far from the residential area. Could you please make sure she is safe?"

"Was she shot with a yumi {bow} or a tanegashima {gun}?"

"Tanegashima, then she fell."

"If she fell then she is probably dead. I don't think it would be wise to send my men out when all of Yamanote is in panic like this. Tell me. What happened to the preachers?"

"I'm told they were killed."

Date's eyes grew heavy, as though a hopeful fire had gone out in him, "Well, I look forward to seeing you again," Date turned about to his wife, "I believe our bath is finished."

After he had walked around the house and approached the gateway, Tsume spoke to Matsuo, "Which way did they go?"

Matsuo pointed to the south, "They already passed. Believed they were following you."

"Good. Sayonara."

"Be safe, kid," Matsuo bowed.

Tsume bowed in return before leaving to Abe's estate. He was not looking forward to seeing Date again, but an alliance with a daimyo could prove greatly beneficial. Thinking of benefits, Tsume was cautious not to move too openly. He was roughly disguised as a samurai with pink below his obi and an Assassin hood. Running too quickly would draw attention, so he walked at a swift pace.

Soon enough, Tsume saw the place. He could not forget the red sakura leaves of the two trees Abe had grown into a natural torii {arch}. Curiously, no guards protected the entrance, but Tsume saw a samurai body impaled to the mansion wall by a spear. He coughed blood. Whoever killed him was certainly nearby.

Tsume drew his sword. He would practice with his new dagger later. For now, he needed a familiar blade. As he crossed into the grounds, he spied a bloody puddle not far from the dying samurai. It poured from an Assassin uniform with a red-soaked hood. Tsume lifted the hood, but let it down with the dismay of not seeing a head. He briefly checked the garden for some way to identify his fallen comrade, preferably a head, but still nothing could be seen but more blood and bodies.

Apart from these two and an open door, the grounds appeared to be immaculate. It even-

Swords clanged inside. Was another Assassin here? Tsume checked the doorway. Surely enough, a shinobi was fleeing his way from a bloody Assassin.

Tsume stepped aside from the door, listening to the steps coming closer. As they reached the exit, he swung his sword into the Templar's gut. Warm blood covered Tsume's hands as his sword stuck into the spine. He removed the blade with little trouble and cleaned it with his obi.

The Assassin knelt over the victim, "Where is Abe?! Where did he go?!"

No answer came from the dead man.

Tsume's comrade now faced him, his unlaughing face revealing himself as Kennosuke, "I needed him alive."

Concern curled Tsume's brow, "What good would that do?"

"For starters, Abe was not home. It was a trap."

"Yeah, we knew that, but we trapped his trap. That was the point of the mission."

"No, he knew that we would know that. We've already lost Tokiro. I can only imagine how many others we may have lost."

"So that was Tokiro?" Tsume pointed to the body.

"You and I... We're still here. We can still find Abe. We're Sensei's best."

"I pray that knowledge does not make you arrogant."

"Unlikely."

Kennosuke's eyes shifted to the dead man on the floor.

Tsume placed a hand on Kennosuke's arm, "I can find Abe."

His ally did not smile. He only nodded and lowered to his knees. With the rosary he normally kept hidden in his kimono, Kennosuke began to pray.

Tsume's eyes rolled, "Don't pray for them. They don't deserve it."

Kennosuke did not flinch from his prayer. As though asking whatever from his god would kill Abe any sooner. Fool seemed to be suddenly deaf too.

Tsume nudged him, "Kennosuke, I'm not waiting for you."

He quickly turned around and used his gift. The bodies all emitted a faint red glow, but Tsume was not looking for them. He was looking for the golden trail which would lead to his golden target. Instead, he only saw the red and otherwise black. Abe must not have been here; at least not recently.

"What do you see?" Kennosuke asked.

"Nothing useful."

"Then we need to investigate," Kennosuke began inside the house, which Tsume could now see was littered with dead samurai and shinobi, "He must have gone somewhere."

"What kind of thing would we be looking for?"

Kennosuke turned to his ally, "Letters, most likely. Find his contacts. Who does he trust the most?"

"Why are you asking me? I wouldn't know where to look. Look where you wouldn't look."

"Where would we not look? At least where does he think we wouldn't look?"

"I don't think he's much of one to hide. Call it a hunch, but only the shinobi are even a little sneaky."

"So he would do like us. Hide in plain sight."

"I think he'd sooner hide in a fortress. He can't hide from us forever, so he might as well stay where he's safe from the Asashin."

"He became Rojuu when he was not much older than us. He's smart enough to find somewhere to hide."

"Are you even listening?" Tsume waved his hand in Kennosuke's face, "He wouldn't hide. He's too important. He's probably staying with one of his Tenpuraa friends."

"Of course. Who are the other Templars in Edo?"

Tsume's thumb and forefinger cupped his chin to help him think for a moment. Perry had returned to the States. Ii Naosuke was on Kyushu. No other Templar names were striking his memory just yet- "Shimazu Nariakira is in Edo."

"You're not suggesting we-..."

"We have two targets in one spot. It's too good to miss."

"Tsume, the entirety of the Asashin in Nippon couldn't do that."

"Don't underestimate us."

Kennosuke smiled, "Of course, you have God's gift. Tsume, go now," his hand reached for his sword.

"What? Is something wrong?"

"Iku ze!"

Tsume glanced behind himself and suddenly wished he hadn't. The shinobi had found him. He immediately scrambled toward the building and scaled the first wall. It may have been the fastest he had ever climbed. Surely, Kennosuke could handle- _Goro!_ - them...

He checked back. Kennosuke's blade carved a gash deep into a Shinobi who held a smoking tanegashima. Relief filled Tsume's lungs long enough to continue climbing. As much as he hated to admit it, Kennosuke could well have been one of the finest warriors in Japan right now... Barring Sensei and Asuka of course. As Tsume approached the top of the mansion, he turned on hi-

"Ha!" A shadow appeared from a corner with a dagger ready to kill. Tsume could not avoid it. The blade cut down his ribs. He was fortunate that his bones and reflexes were together good enough to survive such an incident. His left reached for the shiny new tanto, which rose to smash the shinobi's jaw with its blunt hilt before opening a hole across his throat with the sharp blade.

Tsume smeared the blood onto his kimono. Below him, Kennosuke beheaded another Templar, but received a slash across the back. He was completely surrounded down there, and Tsume had no more kunai to throw at his enemies so both Assassins would need to act quickly.

When he reached the top, he did not take the time to admire the view. He only used his gift to see the district. Soon enough, he did spot a gold beam announcing a manor ahead. So he would only need to follow this west one home and north three more. He shut off his gift and jumped into a pile of leaves below. Hopefully Kennosuke would be fine. Tsume checked the area before emerging covered in leaves. Kennosuke was... standing alone, dripping blood, and praying again.

"I found it!" Tsume yelled to him.

Still no response.

"Hey!" Tsume tried again, "Kennosuke, we need to go. Abe won't kill himself."

"You can't be serious."

"I'm always serious, except for when I'm not, but I'm serious now," Tsume turned on his gift. The red of the corpses made the courtyard to look like a battlefield. Not that Tsume had ever seen a real one. As things were moving in Japan, though, that would not last long. If things continued like this, the war Egawa mentioned would be inevitable. He glanced over to Kennosuke, "So make us a plan."

"I say we retreat."

"How about a better plan?"

"Tsume, we will be fortunate if we can escape Yamanote alive. We have lost two Asashin to my knowledge and both of us are injured. What makes you think we will be fortunate enough to kill Abe in the first place?"

"What will Sensei think of us when we kill Abe Masahiro and Shimazu Nariakira?"

"He'll notice that we didn't survive the mission and then replace us."

"It won't come to that. You should know me better than that. You stay here. I'll get us some horses."

"Tsume, you cannot make me ride into Shimazu's home to get ourselves killed!"

Tsume and Kennosuke rode under the arch of trees. He knew to follow the golden beam, which was not far away. He knew that the clacking of swift hooves could be a tipoff, but this was not a time for patience. Abe would likely not take long to leave Edo if they had prepared this in advance.

Ahead, two fully armored samurai guarded their stations. Armored samurai patrolled for Assassins and rebels, but never held a post. Nothing announced Abe's presence as quickly as that.

They blew a horn to alert their allies and held to their swords. As fast and close as the Assassins galloped, it would be too late. Another two samurai died from swords coming down and cutting off their arms. Hopefully, the other entryways were too heavily guarded and would have to be abandoned. That would give the Assassins some time. They needed to hurry anyway. Tsume's head was getting light, likely from blood loss.

Tsume tried to avoid samurai swords by riding over his enemies, but his horse disagreed and got its knees cut. Both Assassins tumbled from their fallen steeds and continued their advance. Enemies approached from the sides in squads. It didn't matter when the Assassins had already entered the house. The bloated Abe and squat-faced Shimazu were fleeing through the rear door, where they were replaced by a pair of easily killed samurai. Ahead, both daimyo mounted their own horses in the stable. Shimazu reared his first and took off. The Assassins were unable to do any more than watch a potential target flee the scene. However, the next target and source of their current problems, Abe Masahiro, had just begun his horse. Kennosuke's sword greeted the horse's knees, cutting them off and sending the rider to the dirt.

Abe scrambled to his feet, and dashed for the house. Tsume brushed into a samurai, who only managed to slow him down long enough to die by hidden blade. Inside, Tsume was now close. He stunned Abe with a knee to the back and killed him with a blade to the skull.

Once more, he found himself inside the colorless void. As before, Abe seemed to lay beneath him, dead but also alive. He held his hands guarded from his killer.

"Please don't hurt me," Abe whimpered.

"I've already killed you apparently, but I think you need to tell me something. That was how it happened with Egawa."

"Ah, I had not stopped to notice, but you do look familiar, but what could I have to tell you? You're an Asashin and I'm a Tenpuraa."

"What are you planning? I know you and Shimazu are planning something. You're too important."

"Me? No. I am- was the Rojuu, but we usually have a Rojuu tell Tokugawa what he needs to hear."

"So why did you target us so directly?"

"What does it matter?" Abe sighed, "I was chosen because Tokugawa only hears what I tell him. He does not need to know of our war. He only needs to know of the coming war."

"Egawa mentioned that too. What is this war? Who is fighting it?"

"If Mashuperi has his way, then no one will fight. The world is changing. Nippon is only one founda-"

Outside of the void, Tsume felt a great weight pressing him into Abe. Everything was black, but he felt he could probably see. He tried to push himself out, but the weight pushed down harder. Struggling proved of no use, either. He could not scream, lest he draw a samurai or anyone else who wanted to kill him. His best hope was for Kennosuke or a fellow Assassin. Seemed unlikely. He would stay here and hope he could fight if something went wrong. Seemed a grim fate.

Light. Light and air. Air and breath. Breath and movement. Movement?

A dirty and bloody Kennosuke reached a hand to Tsume, "How are you?"

Tsume gladly accepted, "Better, I hope. What happened?"

"God happened."

Tsume rose, and a noise caught his attention. In the distance, an already bent tower snapped like a branch. Part of the wall caved inward and puled the roof to the ground. It was then that Tsume noticed this tower to be a latecomer to the leveling of Edo. He could barely believe his eyes. The palaces of Yamanote had mostly disappeared into a pile of misshapen stone and wood peeking up from the rubble. As far as he could see, only trees and the occasional wall had not reunited with the ground where a proud city had stood not more than minutes before.

* * *

><p><strong>September 22, 2012 at the Abstergo facility in Rome, Italy<strong>

The animus visor cleared a path for me on its own. I sat myself up, but something felt wrong. My head felt like it was splitting.

"Steve, you there?" I gripped my scalp like tearing it off would be an improvement. With hair like mine, it would be a travesty.

"I'm here, Gabriel, but I need something else of you."

"What now?"

"I just need you to enter your password to the computer here."

"Bullshit. You mean to tell me that you can hack my room, but you can't get my password? Yeah, I call bullshit. What if I just told Vidic or Nakamura-san about this evil scheme-thing of yours? For all I know, you may be some fucking Assassin like Tsume and some of those other jerks I never learned about in history class."

I don't think I've ever told you how creepy this place was at night with no one around, but it changes everything. Even when I come here in the day, I forget how it looked then and this is all I imagine. Silence. Darkness. Red lights. It's bad enough when you can't see anything, but it's worse when you can hear just as much. Every word you say echoes in some way and you're scared shitless every time that it could come back wrong, like something you hadn't said. The last thing I wanted was something to remind me that Steve and I aren't the only ones here. As comforting as it would be to be saved, I didn't like the idea of someone else spying on me. A man can only tolerate so many stalkers at a time.

"And don't tell me he wasn't a jerk," I lowered my tone to a very harsh whisper, "You saw the shit he pulled. He almost got that Kenny fucker killed. I can't even believe they let him reproduce."

"If you want to see where this really goes, just enter your password on the computer," Steve's robotic gender-neutral voice cooed from a flashing blue screen.

"What's in it for me?" I crossed my arms.

"A promotion."

I turned the computer in my direction. There a pair of simple text fields waited for me with the words 'employee ID' and 'password.'

ID: 935145608

Password: Ma5t3r5w0rd

I pressed Enter and the screen went white.


	15. To the Shores of Nagasaki

**September 22, 2012 at the Abstergo facility in Rome, Italy**

"Wake up, Mr Marshall!" someone barked.

Without opening my eyes, I rolled to other side of my bed and away from the source of my evil evil awakener. The last few days had me getting up early in the morning and having my sleep interrupted on a nightly basis. I had become one with my bed.

"Mr Marshall, it is 8 am. It's time for you to get in the Animus," the voice belonged to Vidic.

I tossed my pillow at him. I'm still unsure if it hit the mark, since I didn't care enough to look. My other pillow beckoned me to lay upon and return to my sleep.

"Dammit Mr Marshall, we aren't paying you to lay around all day!"

I rolled into the floor and groaned, "Fine. Have it your way."

**January 15, 1856 in Edo, Japan**

Tsume slid his arms into the basket straps. He lifted from his legs which he hoped had regained their strength after only about a week of rehabilitation from nearly two months of inactivity. Sensei had insisted on maintaining some training regimen,so his arms were still strong as ever.

The basket resisted strongly. Perhaps Tsume should have paid more attention to his back, but he didn't need to move this very far. It was the last and most important piece of cargo he had left to board. When the ship sailed, Tsume knew his training regimen would get stricter, but that was fine. He quite enjoyed exercise.

The clouds had made way for a warm blue sky yesterday. Even today, there was no white or gray to be seen. The only reminders of this winter were packets of snow in the corners of buildings and faint puffs of breath before everyone's face.

The only remains of the earthquake were the immaculate new buildings where there was once rubble and the incredible grief that lingered in the air. Tsume heard somewhere that upwards of ten thousand died. Granted, the news on the street was that Abe Masahiro had gone into retirement after the relief. Tsume remembered very clearly helping him with that.

"Tsume!" a female voice called as he stepped onto the dock, "Slow down!" Asuka was approaching, "Tsume, we need to talk. I can't find Hitsu."

"Well he can't have gone far," Tsume took a few steps toward the boat.

"He left his painting in my house," she held a rolled parchment tightly in her hands.

"I'm not in here Okāsan," Hitsu shouted from the basket. The weight on his back was not so bad as how

"I knew it," Asuka pointed accusation to Tsume, not that it was undeserved, "Hitsu can't go to Nagasaki."

"My brother stays with me. I don't get to see him nearly enough."

"He was with you for almost two months. He needs parents, and Sanzo and I have been his parents for years."

"But you aren't his parents. I don't want him to forget them."

"Tsume, he never knew them. Besides, he's been staying sick lately."

"Nagasaki has the best doctors in the world."

"I can barely afford a doctor from Nagasaki. Can you?"

Tsume did not answer.

Asuka continued, "Do you even know where he will stay?"

"I'm sure Virginia will let him stay with her."

"Have you asked her?"

"Yes," Tsume's eyes locked with Asuka's.

"Have you?"

"Yes," his eyes shifted.

She leaned closer, "Have you?"

"No."

"So you don't know."

"Tsume says that Sanzo isn't a man, and I need a dad," Hitsu commented.

Asuka smirked removing the boy from the basket, "I'm your dad. Sanzo is your mom. If you stay with Virginia, you will certainly have plenty of moms, but who will be your dad?"

Tsume pulled Hitsu away, "I'm his brother, and that's enough."

"Hai, that's enough," the child added.

"Tsume, you don't understand. He needs to stay in Edo. There's nothing for him in Nagasaki that he cant have better here."

"I WILL BE IN NAGASAKI!"

"Tsume, listen to yourself. You can't properly raise him yet."

"Washio, what the hell are you doing?" Sensei stepped off the boat, possibly interrupting his own duties for the sake of a student.

"He wants to bring Hitsu with him," Asuka answered in Tsume's stead.

"Jesus Christ boy, where were you going to keep him?"

"I was going to ask Virginia," Tsume's shame was now digging his chin into his clavicle. The heat of his anger was rising in his belly. Who were these people to tell anyone what Hitsu needed? He and Tsume were blood, and nothing mattered beyond that, "But we're getting on the boat."

"No," Sensei blocked his path, "Living with whores is no way for a boy to grow up. You know that as well as I do. Hell, Virginia knows that. She didn't even let Kent live with her."

Tsume tried to go around, but Sensei would not allow. As old as he was, he managed to be as nimble as he was imposing. With that in mind, there was no reason for him to be able to block as much room as he did. Perhaps it was his clout, but Tsume knew he could not pass this man without permission. That was something he did not have.

Tsume pulled for his last straw, "Then we can train him. Make an Asashin of him."

"Listen to yourself. Maybe you didn't get a proper childhood, but that's no reason he has to miss his. He has a family, and you're still part of it. You're just going to travel for a few years. You'll see him again."

Tsume shifted a little.

"Let him down," Sensei commanded.

"An Asashin takes orders from no one."

The very next moment was not one Tsume remembered with any clarity. He only remembered that he was suddenly facing the ocean and his face ached into his eye. Sensei's fist indicated that he had been punched And was stunned long enough that Asuka was able to pull his brother from his side. Hitsu's crying alerted Tsume to turn around, but Sensei forcefully disallowed it.

"Your brother stays," Sensei snarled close enough that Tsume could smell the stink of fish on his breath.

Tsume pushed forward into his mentor.

A stone rolled down Tsume's side. He quickly determined it to come from the street. There he saw a man lift another rock from the ground.

"Get away from him, gaijin! Nippon is for Nippon-jin!" the man cast his next stone at Sensei, "You brought that earthquake, and you can take the namazu with you!"

"Hey!" a deep male voice called, as if in response to the violent rhetoric. A red clad man in very long Assassin-like robes grabbed the peasant, "What are you doing?!"

The farmer (or whatever he was) said with an acidic hatred in his voice, "My son died because of men like him. The kami {gods} want him gone and so do I."

"Look again," the man in red pointed to Sensei, "That gaijin is no ordinary gaijin. He is an Amerika-jin {American}. They are masters of stealing someone else's land. If he is leaving, then you should be thankful that our kami gods are so convincing."

The peasant glanced to the man in red, then back to Sensei, then back to the man in red for the last time. He stepped backwards a few paces with his eyes fixated on the mighty Amerika-jin, Charlton Arkwright. In the time it took to brush the sweat from his brow, the man turned about and walked away.

"I'll have you know that I'm not an Amerika-jin," Sensei called to the man in red, "My reputation is bad enough already."

"What is one drop of rain in a storm?" the man in red showed the back of his hand with the ring finger retracted, "Where other men blindly follow the truth, remember..."

"Nothing is true," Sensei returned the gesture as if by instinct, "Where other men are limited by morality or law, remember..."

"Everything is permitted."

"Nothing is true; everything is permitted," both men canted in unison, "We are Asashin. We work in the dark to serve the light."

"Chaaruton Aakuraito?" the man in red bowed.

"You must be Takechi Zuizan," Sensei also bowed.

"Hai, Chaaruton-sama. It is an honor to finally meet our new Sensei."

"The honor is all mine, but please call me Arkwright."

"Of course, Aakuraito-sama. Also Kasai-gozen, how long has it been? Is this the child you killed five men to birth? He's grown rather quickly."

"Three men," Azusa answered, "And this is not Tairo. This is Hitsu. He's Washio-san's brother."

"Are you Washio-san?" Takechi extended a hand to raise Tsume from the ground, "I've heard great things of you. Aakuraito-sama tells me that you retired Abe Masahiro. He failed to mention that you have trouble standing."

Tsume pushed himself from the ground without accepting the assistance offered to him, "Yeah, that's me."

"Listen, Takechi-san, I know you just arrived to Edo, but we are leaving for Kyushu."

"Nagasaki, right?"

"Hai."

"That's perfectly fine. I was hoping to learn from you anyway, since we didn't get to meet in Choshu."

"ALL ABOARD," the voice of Daniel Kent rang aloud, "That was your last call," he leaned over the rail of his ship, "You have five minutes to grab your belongings or we'll leave for Nagasaki without you."

"Dammit, Kent, you don't have the rank to make that decision!" Sensei snapped.

"No one outranks a captain on his own ship."

"Washio, you have five minutes," Sensei then turned about to board the ship, and presumably teach Daniel a lesson.

"Washio, may I ask what was going on here before I came?" Takechi asked.

"He wants to bring his brother to Nagasaki," Asuka answered.

Tsume rolled his eyes at the prospect of starting this conversation again.

Takechi kneeled down to Hitsu, "Hey, there Hitsu-chan."

Hitsu stepped back a bit with his finger between his teeth and worried eyes.

"Do you want to go to Nagasaki?" Takechi asked, "Or do you want to stay in Edo?"

Hitsu paused, "I want Tsume to stay."

"Well that was a different answer," the red-clad Assassin stood to face Tsume, "And you?"

"I need to go to Nagasaki," Tsume answered.

"Hitsu," Asuka extended the parchment to Tsume's brother, "How about you give this to Tsume and you can be with him in his thoughts?"

Hitsu accepted it and passed it to his brother, "You'll like it."

Tsume accepted it from the tiny hands before giving his brother a massive hug, "I'm sure I will."

"Promise?"

"I promise to like it."

"Good," Takechi spoke with contention, "Washio-san, we really need to leave."

Tsume lifted Hitsu and passed him to Asuka, "Take good care of him."

"As always," she smiled, "You stay safe. I can't afford your funeral if I'm raising two children."

**January 15, 1856 sailing from Edo to Nagasaki, Japan**

"You should be thanking Arkwright," Joseph leaned over the sea with a sigh, "that could have gotten messy."

"Why should I? My brother is staying in Edo and all I got was this lousy painting," Tsume raised the rolled parchment to Joseph's attention.

"Is it one of Hitsu's?"

"It is."

"Well don't call it lousy. May I see it?"

"You know what I mean, and fine."

Joseph stole the scroll with a smile. As he unfurled it, his look of anticipation seemed to become contentment, "He's really good for his age. I like the trees"

Tsume observed the painting for himself. Four humanoid figures stood around the base of a grey-roofed castle. It had not progressed much from what Hitsu had painted under the sakura tree, but the castle's roofing finished. Each figure was now labelled with a name, which were drawn so large and close to their heads as to be easily mistaken for branches: Son Goku, Chu Hakkai, Sha Gojo, and one more whose name Tsume could not yet discern. If he had ever read Journey to the West, he would probably be able to guess.

"They're names," Tsume retorted, "If you squint, you might be able to see it better."

"If those are names," Joseph pointed to the leftmost figure, "Then who is 'Please Yuzuru Is'?"

"That says Sha Gojo. How much time have you had to learn that?"

Joseph put his back to the railing and stared into the sky, "I've been in Japan for three years, so not enough."

"I learned to read around the same time."

"I could read long before you. Just in a different language."

"Which I have also learned."

"Alright smart guy, what do you want me to say?"

"Say you're a monkey."

Joseph's head snapped up toward Tsume, "We are one hell of a pair of monkeys."

Tsume could not help but to smile at that remark, "Now I never said I was a monkey."

"No, but I did."

"What makes me a monkey?"

"I'll tell you later. For now," Joseph's finger indicated something over Tsume's shoulder, "You may want to turn around."

"Do I need my blade?"

"Yes Washio," Sensei stated flatly, "An Assassin always needs his blade."

Tsume was expecting someone more like Kennosuke than Sensei. However, this was not the usual tight-assed Sensei. This Sensei did not keep his face knotted in a scowl, but had borne the bland look of apathy.

"I'm sorry Sensei, but-"

"I did not give you permission to speak, Washio. Walk with me. Kent, as you are."

"Yes, sir."

Tsume nodded and followed the old man to the ship's bow. His mind raced with possibilities for what Sensei wished to speak about. Hitsu moving to Nagasaki? Another promotion? Another weapon training? Hitsu moving to Nagasaki? Where they walked, Kennosuke already waited at attention with the sea to his back and Takechi standing too close to his front.

"Stand with him," Sensei ordered. Tsume obeyed, stepping forward and spinning on his heel so he and Kennosuke both faced the same direction. Sensei stepped deep into Tsume's unflinching space just as Takechi was standing to Kennosuke. Neither made eye contact, since he remembered how strict Sensei was about moving too much while in formation. He just maintained looking forward into the scraggled chin of the man who was exhaling into his eyes.

"Why are you an Assassin? I want you to think on that. We will begin recruiting as soon as we get to Nagasaki. I need you both to get in touch with what kind of person would join our cause. Talk to each other and the other Assassins on the ship. Captain Kent tells me that you have a few days."

Tsume could have sworn he felt water splash his eyes. He tried to convince himself it was the ocean, but he knew better. His mind came alight in search of some way that he could wipe his face into his sleeve without catching Sensei's attention. No ideas yet.

Sensei finally stepped back from Tsume and turned around with his hands holding one another behind his back, "I expect you will have good some ideas by then. Dismissed."

When he had finished talking, Sensei mad Takechi walked to the ship's cabin. Tsume immediately rubbed the spit from his face to his sleeve, "I thought he'd never leave. Any idea why he hates me so much?"

"Sensei has never indicated that he hates you," Kennosuke answered with a disappointment in his eye, "You talk a lot and you rarely follow orders. I think he expects better."

"Alright smart guy. Let's start with you. Why are you an Asashin?"

"I joined the Asashin to make a difference on this Earth. I don't know what the Lord thinks of me. I know he condemns violence, but I don't see any other way. If I'm in His good grace, then I hope to stay there. If I am not, then I accept my place in Hell. Even if I never see it, I want to create a world where everyone can live freely without fear. That is why I am an Asashin."

Tsume arched his eyebrow. How long had Kennosuke been waiting to say that? How does someone follow up after that? He couldn't look like a good guy here. He would inevitably just sound like a jerk.

"Your turn," Kennosuke nodded.

"What do you want me to say? I'm no hero who can memorize speeches. I don't care about that. If I can bring down some rich kusottare who held me down, good, but I joined this because of my brother."

"We've known each other for a while now."

"Four years, I think. Maybe five. Why?"

"I just realized that I don't know anything about you but I can trust you with my life."

"Be careful who you trust."

"Well tell me more about yourself."

"I really don't see why you need to know more."

"You just said it yourself; I should be more careful."

"I was born in Edo. My family were eta {outcasts}, so we didn't really get much help from polite society. We stole what we needed and accepted what little we were given. I had a few other siblings, but now I just have Hitsu... and he's the lucky one."

"Something awful must have happened to the others."

"We couldn't take care of them. Lost one every other year or so. Worst feeling in the world to get used to."

"And why is Hitsu lucky?"

"Because," Tsume said through his teeth, "He is."

"But why?"

"Urusai {Shut up}. That's why."

"Understood."

Tsume looked up into Kennosuke's diverted eyes, "What about you?"

"Oka-san introduced me to the Asashin when I was young."

"And now you're here and that's all. There is nothing else to the story."

"I never met my father. I am told that he was a Kirishitan samurai. Maruya Shinji was his name. He was crucified before I was born. I keep his rosary."

"I thought that was Nariko's rosary."

Kennosuke snickered and reached into his kimono where he kept the rosary, "The rosary is from my father. The sword, Hageshii Shiyounin, was from my uncle."

"What was it your mother gave you?"

"A wealth of wisdom and experience. A reason to be. A chance to change the world."

"But did she give you anything physical? aside from birth…"

"My hidden blade," he extended the blade from his wrist, as if to give an example, "but this isn't it. It went missing with my sword."

"Was that the sword you wanted me to find?"

"Hai, but we didn't have a chance to look thanks to the earthquake. It wasn't in the rubble."

"You checked?"

"Of course. Do you have any idea how long that sword has been in my family?"

"You said Muramasa forged it."

"It goes back to the Sengoku when my ancestor, Kasai Yuzuru, had it forged by Muramasa."

"Kasai Yuzuru" Tsume leaned back with his elbows on the rails, "That name sounds familiar."

"Kirishitan Asashin. He traveled with Tiago Lopes and the others. He was connected to Fuji somehow."

"I hate Fuji," Tsume said as though Kennosuke had asked for an opinion.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"I feel like we've lost track of this conversation."

"You enlisted out of opportunity."

"Hai, and you want to be an eiyuu {hero}."

"Chigau {Wrong}, I am not Azusa. I just want to make a difference in something greater than myself."

"Eiyuu-sama," Tsume put his hands together and bowed deeply.

"Tsume, be serious. Sensei wants us to get in touch with what makes us Asashin."

Tsume rose from his bow with a smile across his lips, "I think we got it. I'm going to speak with Takechi. I'm sure he'll have something more interesting to say."

"Let me know how that goes."

He nodded over his shoulder to Kennosuke as he made his way to the hatch. Belowdecks was the usual cramped quarters it had always been. Some rooms existed in the back, but this being a merchant vessel, some walls may have been removed and others added. Captain Kent was a sketchy fellow. Probably because he was a smuggler. Joseph did mention that.

Some large brown men slept in hammocks hung up from posts all along the ship. Tsume wondered if they were the same kind of brown men that Jack was. They did look similar enough, but they were more brown like copper than black like iron. Some of them had black marks across their arms and ankles. Tsume didn't want to see under their clothes for more.

Others had pale skin and flat faces like the Chinese man from Nagasaki, but kept leaner bodies. They were generally as tall as Tsume, but considering that he was rather short on his own, they must not have been particularly tall people. He really found all of this diversity to be very... Unsettling. Not so much bad; just unusual.

Garen exited the door of the first mate's quarters, which was odd. The Assassins were supposed to bunk in the quarters opposite this room. He paused in front of Tsume with a look that had absolutely positively nothing to hide, "Tsume."

"Garen. What were you doing in Ae-jin's room?"

"Nothing. I was just helping her with... Things."

"Oh, okay then. I guess you wouldn't mind if I just walked in to talk to her."

"Don't do that. She's changing."

"Now Garen, why would she need to change her clothes if you were just helping her with 'things'?"

"I don't miss Azusa … I miss Azusa."

"Garen. It's okay," Tsume placed a hand on his comrade's shoulder, "It was never my place to judge you. If you don't mind, I'm just going to take one little look," he reached over to the door.

Garen smacked his hand, "Have some respect."

"Fine. I need to talk to Takechi anyway," Tsume turned around to see the door open with Sensei and Takechi both inside.

"No, you should call them Hitokiri {manslayers}. It's more ominous than Shinigami {death gods} to anyone with a basic education," Takechi leaned back into his hammock.

"Kasai chose Shinigami because she felt it was clever. I happen to like it. If you want to start your own Hitokiri, be my guest. We need more Asashin," Sensei stood by his fellow Assassin with his arms crossed behind his back.

"Are you really going to stand by everything that woman says? Last I checked, you aren't even the one having sex with her."

"I respect her. She was one of the few dozen Asashin left in Nippon."

"She is also something of a hypocrite."

"Say what you want, she killed a man while she was giving birth. If that doesn't make you afraid of her, then you're a braver man than I am."

Takechi's eyes caught Tsume standing in the doorway, "Washio! Good to see you again."

"Konnichiwa, Tackechi-sama and Sensei. Takechi-sama, I had something to ask you."

"Ask away," a his ever-present smile expanded just enough that he looked like his face was pulling itself apart at the mouth.

"What made you an Asashin?"

Takechi's teeth disappeared behind his lips, "Hm. I suppose I would say that Nippon is weak. Right now, we are taking Tokugawa's hands off of our necks. Maybe soon we can even get rid of them altogether."

"What about the Templars? They are fighting Tokugawa too."

Perhaps it was instinct, but Takechi smirked, "Not in the way we are. They want to set fire to the people and tell them that only the blood of the Tokugawa will douse it. We want to establish something better."

"Abe told me that Mashuperi wants to avoid that. Egawa said something like that too."

Sensei's brow furled as it always did when he heard something he didn't like, "When did you talk to them?"

"After I killed them."

Takechi cast a look of concern to Tsume, "After?"

Sensei's eyes never broke contact with his student, but his hand made a reassuring gesture to Takechi, "Washio here is very talented."

"Speaking to the dead is an interesting talent," Takechi glanced to Tsume, "Could you teach me?"

"Washio. I believe Captain Kent has ... Some reason for you to go outside."

"No he doesn't. That's why I'm not outside."

"Washio," Sensei's eyes narrowed so sharply that they could have cut Tsume's throat, "I hear Captain Kent calling you."

Tsume bowed and left. Had Sensei somehow neglected to tell Takechi of the gift? Tsume never really understood why his gift ended to be a secret.

**January 16, 1856 sailing from Edo to Nagasaki, Japan**

"Listen up, landlubbers," Daniel walked in front of the three recruits with a trio of revolvers slung over his shoulder. His new black suit pronounced the stride of his legs. "Arkwright has enrolled you into the Kent and Freeman School of Maritime Assassination. Today, I am going to teach you how to fire a revolver. Tomorrow, I am going to teach you how to fire it wet. The next day, I am going to teach you how to board a ship. Do we have any questions?"

Joseph raised his hand.

"Yes Joey?"

"I did this when it was the Daniel Kent School of Naval Assassination. I don't want to do this again."

Daniel approached his brother like a subordinate, "And when was the last time you were on a ship?"

Joseph observed from his left to his right, "Like the ship I'm on now? Your ship? Here I thought you would know that."

Tsume added, "I don't think I trust a captain who can't recognize his own ship."

Daniel's right leg twitched and his left hand clenched, but he merely struck a finger in Tsume's direction, "Not now, Washio," and returned his scorn to his brother, "When was the last time you were on a ship other than the _Eclipse_?"

"A few hours ago when I was getting food-"

"Grub."

"Yes, that. I was getting that from Jack's ship."

Daniel moved so close that he could probably smell his brother's eyes, "What is her name?"

"I didn't think you'd kno-Oh! the ship?"

"Yes, the ship we were just talking about without changing subjects. What is her name?"

"Oh, that's the... Erm. _Morning Star_?"

Daniel sighed out so much hope for his brother that he looked like he would collapse. Not in the figurative fainting sense, but in the sense that he would fall in on himself. His neck crooked forward to find some joke in Joseph's eyes, but there was none to be found, "No, she is the _Midnight Sun_."

"Okay, then I was on the _Midnight Sun_ getting some grub. Happy?"

"I would be happier if there was some hope for you. IF THERE IS HOPE FOR ANY OF YOU, THEN I EXPECT TO SEE IT TODAY," Daniel whipped back to pacing before the recruits.

"And where is Garen?" Tsume interrupted, "You would think that he would love this."

"That man practically taught me how to shoot. He gets a pass."

"He's also having sex with your first mate."

"He is in fact, doing that."

**January 30, 1856 in Nagasaki, Japan**

"I can hardly wait," Kennosuke, who had spent the last hour on the Eclipse's bow to watch the approach of Nagasaki, said to Tsume with eyes full of wonder, "I'm going to see Ikitsuki and meet Endo."

"Is it really that important?" Tsume leaned over the railing next to his friend.

"That's like asking if I'm still sore from all of that swimming."

"Yeah, I don't think I want to see another ship for a long time."

Kennosuke took in a deeply satisfied breath, "It's wonderful. What is that smell?"

The crowds of Nagasaki became clearer as the distance shortened. They were huge a few years ago, but much thicker now.

Tsume contemplated the delicious scent, "Chinese food. I think. It smells different."

"What do they eat in Chūgoku?"

"Keep wondering," Captain Kent informed the two, "You won't find Chinese food here."

Tsume turned around, "Why not? It smells the same as it did last time. Mostly."

"What you will find here is a cheap imitation of real Chinese food that has been altered to fit Japanese tastes. Real Chinese is so much better."

"You've been to Chūgoku?" Kennosuke's eyes never moved from the city.

"Many times. It's a beautiful place with not many beautiful women. Sometimes, I prefer Japan, but Nagasaki is looking more like a miniature Shanghai every day."

"What is Shanghai?" Tsume asked.

"Biggest city in China. Bigger than Edo. Full of foreigners. Naturally, I fit right in." Daniel gazed thoughtfully into the sea.

The populace of Nagasaki came into a closer view. What was a wall of people before was a swarm of them now. Vague silhouettes moved in and out of the writing mass of civilians. The buildings themselves were still as spread as before, but the city reached further out across the beach.

"It's interesting. You would expect Edo to have all of that. Nagasaki isn't half as big or close to Tokugawa," Kennosuke smiled.

Tsume returned to the rail. Along the ports he saw clothes similar to those Daniel was wearing or what Commodore Perry wore. Of course, the majority of these outfits were still kimono, but Tsume still found the change upsetting.

As they pulled into the dock, Tsume watched the dockworkers and crew of the Eclipse rope the ship until she stopped. A Tokugawa official and his two guards approached the boarding plank. Tsume still needed to learn boat terms.

These guards, however, were different from usual samurai. They wore armor, just not helmets or anything metal on their arms. Rifles stood erect on their shoulders and threatened the sky with long bayonets.

"Stay here," Captain Kent warned, "Konnichiwa," he called to the samurai, "How are you?"

"Routine cargo check," the samurai adjusted his glasses with his middle finger, "We have heard rumors of smugglers carrying Kirishitan paraphernalia into Nagasaki. You know we do not appreciate that."

"Hai. Only gaikoku-hito like me are allowed to be Kirishitan. I've read the laws, Toshi. You should know that by now."

"Gaijin," the samurai cast a judgmental glare through his glasses to captain Kent, "Don't dignify yourself here."

"Slow down there, Toshi. This is my brig. We've been over this. No one disrespects me on the Eclipse."

"Just let do my job, Kento."

"Fine," Daniel's arms crossed.

"First, crew. Any Nihon-Jin aboard your ship will be inspected for signs of westernization and Christianity," the samurai cleaned one lens of his glasses into his kimono.

"My crew is mostly from Hawai or Chūgoku. All of the Japanese crew are on the Midnight Sun."

"Passengers, then."

"Can do. TAKECHI-SAN, MARUYA, WASHI-"

"We heard you," Tsume interrupted, "We are right here. We did not move."

The samurai and his entourage approached Tsume, "Are you Kirishitan?"

"Uh, no."

"Good. You should then know that the punishment for Christianity is death," the samurai's eyes scanned Tsume up and down, but soon became fixated on his scar, "You look familiar."

"I do? Strange. You look like a hypocrite."

"What is your name?"

"Tsubasa Shiro."

"No, your real name."

"Washio Tsume."

The samurai glared with skepticism.

"Fine, Igarashi Yūdai," Tsume spurted the first name to come to mind.

"That's what I thought," the samurai now had his eyes on Takechi, "And your name?"

"Kato Hanzo," he did not flinch.

"And you," the samurai's attention shifted to Kennosuke.

"Kasai Yoshinobu."

"Good, now we just need to test your faith and Nagasaki will welcome you," he removed from his kimono a bronze cross in the Christian shape, with a tail longer than the arms. In the center of this cross sat a figure akin to a Buddha, but with both hands clasped together, like how the Kirishitan prayed. He laid it onto the deck between the Assassins and the boarding plank of the ship, "Simply walk to the dock."

The samurai's two guards stood at each side of the ship's exit, their rifles threatening any who did not abide by their own rules. The samurai then pointed to Takechi, "You first."

Takechi sauntered to the dock without a second thought. His foot covered the cross for a moment, but that seemed to be all he needed. Within seconds, he was free of this instance of bureaucratic oppression, courtesy of the Tokugawa.

Tsume volunteered himself to go next. He walked over the cross without touching it.

"Stop right there," the samurai ordered. Tsume's blade arm tensed with the intent to resist what could easily become his execution. The samurai's hand indicated the cross laying on the deck, "Step on it."

Tsume glared into the samurai's eyes. Without looking away, he stomped the cross and scratched it into the wood, "Happy?"

"Acceptable. Next!"

Tsume proceeded to the dock with the mix of satisfaction and dissatisfaction that one can only get from putting down a samurai. Hateful kusottare. Then he turned about and lost his breath from what he saw: Kennosuke had paused with his foot over his holy symbol. His right hand clutched tight, of course around the rosary.

The samurai snatched Kennosuke's sleeve and revealed his secret faith, not knowing what other secrets hid just under the other. The samurai's back quickly arched forward in what all Assassins knew to be a kill from a hidden blade. The beads of the rosary scattered onto the floor. He was quick to hide behind the corpse to shield himself from the guards' guns.

Thunder crashed. Smoke spat from the guns. The samurai grew a new bloody hole and fell to the deck with Kennosuke standing behind him. The Christian's eyes did not convey his usual dour intensity or even his occasional apologetic sorrow. Red sprayed from his neck and he dropped.

Blood fell away from Tsume's heart and was quickly replaced by the chill of terror. His shock turned to a fear which passed both gunmen and returned to his friend. His eyes were fixed skyward to his God, seemingly oblivious of the flow of blood emanating from his fresh wound.

Tsume removed his own obi, letting the swords fall to the side. He knelt over his friend and covered the wound, "You're going to be okay, Kennosuke."

The red obi became darker. Kennosuke's eyes moved from the sky to his friend. It was then that Tsume noticed his right hand reached out and and shifted through the scattered beads. His fingers almost touched the cross amidst the encroaching blood. Tsume grabbed it and placed it on its believer's chest, but he felt two hearts stop at that moment.

Kennosuke's eyes conveyed something all too familiar to an Assassin: void. Tsume reached to those same eyes to close them, "Gomeifuku wo inorimasu."

{I pray for your happiness in Heaven.}


	16. In Good Faith

**September 22, 2012 at the Abstergo facility in Rome, Italy**

I pushed the Animus visor away from me and sat up on the edge. My mind raced with a thousand questions, but they kept relating to what I just saw.

"Is something the matter, Mr Marshall?" Vidic asked, knowing damned well what was wrong.

"Hello to you too, but..." My face fell into my hands, "The fuck was that?"

"What do you mean?"

"He just fucking died."

"That he did."

"I mean, what was the point? There was no... No cackling villain. No nothing. He just died."

"It's war, Mr Marshall. People die."

"It wasn't even a Templar who did it."

"That was the law of the land, but it's telling that you're so affected by this. You're synchronizing well with your ancestor."

"Doc, does this keep happening?"

"Does what keep happening?"

"People dying over nothing. How many times am I going to see this?"

"It's difficult to tell with your ancestor," Vidic pinched a tuft of his beard, "Tsume was born off the record. What little we do know about him tells us that he knew something that we still don't."

I was more hoping he would tell me that Tsume became a professional puppy handler, "Thanks for that, I guess."

**January 30, 1856 at the Lexington Inn just outside of Nagasaki, Japan**

It was a western style building, not unlike Sensei's cabin or the buildings of Dejima. Strange music grew louder as the Assassins came closer. The smell of geisha perfume was almost louder than the music itself.

Sensei slid open the entrance. Inside, Japanese girls dressed in revealing Western clothes flitted about an enormous room, doing jobs normally expected in a post station and an oiran {courtesan} house. They did not walk with the stilted gait of normal oiran, possibly because the fronts of their dresses only hung to their knees, thus freeing their legs. Feathers sprung from the sides of their nest-like hair. Some of them carried drinks and food to the saloon's patrons who sat at very short tables like those in a restaurant. When they did, they bent over at the waist, exposing cleavage which was already greatly visible. Others danced before the doors which lined the side walls, raising their skirts even further to expose the connection of their legs. In the back was a stage, where a lone woman strummed her hands along the shelf of a wooden box. It must have been one of those pianos Joseph talked about.

However, one face stood out among this crowd. She had brown hair and lightly tan skin, not unlike captain Daniel, but a little closer to that of his more indoorsy brother. Her chin dented inward and her cheeks were fleshy, but not very round. A thin upper lip and thick lower lip made for a very unusual smile, but her jade eyes pierced everything around her.

She was the one to approach the Assassins first, "Konnichiwa, please choose a seat."

"No time, Baioreto-san {Violet}," Takechi said, "We need to see Bājinya-san {Virginia}."

Violet nodded and immediately made her way to the woman at the box. The music stopped as the women spoke to one another. Violet pointed to the Assassins and took over the other woman' seat at the piano.

It was then that Tsume saw the other woman's face. It belonged to the wrinkled and red-haired Virginia Stewart. Her skin had the same color that had been applied to it shortly before Tsume first met her. When she noticed the Assassins, she made a large grin and silently mouthed a hello as she approached her fellow Assassins.

"Charlton, Joseph, Takechi, and you," her red lips highlighted her white teeth, "What was your name again?"

Tsume silently shrunk away, resulting in being visually scanned by her. She grabbed his hands. That was when he noticed the red under his fingernails. He must have missed it when he changed his clothes and washed Kennosuke's blood from himself. His arms withdrew to hide the remnants of his friend from the world.

"What happened?" Virginia demanded of Sensei.

"We lost one today," Sensei bowed his head.

"The Christian?"

"Yes."

"The government has been hard on that lately," her gaze dropped to the floor.

"He put up a fight."

"They've been hard on that too," she regained eye contact, "Where is he now?"

"Aboard the Midnight Sun. Jack is waiting for Maruya's mother to make a decision on the funeral. I sent a pigeon to her."

"And Daniel?"

"The Eclipse is at sea, disposing of the soldiers who killed Maruya."

"Bless your heart," Virginia wrapped her arms around Tsume, "You must have been close to him, I understand how you're feeling right now, but you're strong. I have faith in you."

Tsume found her words hollow, but oddly comforting. They were the words of someone with nothing else to say. They held one another for what felt like minutes. Tsume fought the urge to cry. He had only truly cried once before, and he did not have anyone to help him over the death of his parents then.

"Charlton, did you get my letter?" Virginia did not let go of Tsume.

"Letter?" Sensei replied.

Virginia released the boy, "The letter about Tiago Lopes. I sent it last week."

"No," Sensei's voice was tinted with a new concern.

"Then you need to go to Osaka Castle as soon as you can."

"Not yet," Takechi interrupted, "We need to bury Kennosuke first. Then we can go to Osaka."

Sensei gave Takechi a defiant glare, "No, Nagasaki takes priority. I can have Kasai send someone to Osaka instead."

"Our soldiers take priority."

Sensei's hand brushed down his straw beard, "We need more..."

**January 31, 1856 on Ikitsuki Island, Japan**

Sensei led Tsume, Jack, and Garen through the village. It was a small bit of land, but it would be a disservice to say that it barely emerged from the sea. Sharp cliffs stabbed at the sky in the west, but left the east a level beach. The sun was setting across those cliffs and casting a massive shadow across the people who made this island their home. Tsume could probably see the first and last homes from the town square. He certainly saw them from the dock.

But before him was an unusual building with bricks laid up beyond its base and all the way to its steep triangular roof. A large inverted Y leaned against the wall and reached above the building. With empty windows at the angles of the Y and a large wooden door at its base, the building seemed to form a kind of face.

The Assassins came upon the steps to the doorway. Whispers emanated from within. Garen pulled the door outward from its center. The mechanism seemed familiar. It was much like the entrance to Sensei's cabin, but larger and connected to what must have been another door.

Tsume saw what must have been hundreds of terrified eyes fall upon him. People sat in cramped rows along the sides of the room, leaving a clear and narrow path to a single ancient man. Some of them grasped the rosaries concealed beneath their kimono. The hands of others disappeared into the safety of their robes, certainly hiding more than hands. One began to frantically roll up a scroll that he had open before him. Two or three of them started sobbing, but Tsume didn't see it.

The old man, who appeared to be naught but a skeleton wrapped loosely by skin, stood and bowed, "Ākuraito-san."

"Thursday seems an odd day for church," Sensei bowed in return, "Where I'm from, we normally do it on Sunday."

"Every day is a good day for prayer, Ākuraito-san."

"For everything, Endo, there is a season."

"Tsuzuke kudasai {Please continue}," Endo commanded the people.

Their heads almost turned away from the Assassins. Tsume spied many of them constantly in the process of diverting their gazes away from him and him alone. Being the only native among a group of foreigners was either helping or hurting their opinions of him. If his swords indicated anything, they were not helping.

"I have a request of you," Sensei said.

"Outside."

Sensei guided them out with a silent swiping gesture. Naturally, his students all followed. As he stepped back to the sunset, Tsume cast another look to the Kirishitan, who pretended not to cast their looks back. One young girl, certainly no older than thirteen, chose not to sit with the congregation, and joined her priest.

"Kahori-chan, stay inside. I need to speak with these men alone."

"Hai, jī-chan {grandpa}," the girl bowed and disappeared.

"When did you become a grandfather?" Sensei asked.

"Had you asked, I may have told you."

"About that request-"

Endo raised a hand to pause Sensei, "Are you trying to take some Kirishitan from this place again?"

"No. I'm here to bury one."

"Oh," through his saddened wrinkles, Endo became visibly distraught, "What was his name?"

"Maruya Kennosuke."

"The loss of any man is a tragedy."

"I know tragedy all too well."

"Bring him. We will give him a proper funeral."

**February 1, 1856 on Ikitsuki Island, Japan**

Waves splashed onto the rocks below Tsume. Were he to somehow get caught in them, he would certainly be crushed, not that the fall wouldn't kill him from this height, he looked behind himself, to the docks down on the western beach. He could see over the Midnight Sun's main sail from this height, despite her being two miles away. Meanwhile, he felt the warmth of the morning sun on his back and saw how its golden rays gilded the puff of his breath.

He had not slept all night, unlike the night before. Perhaps he expected Kennosuke to sit up from his pyre and yell, 'Hah!' But he was never the type of person to do that to anyone. Not that humorless Kennosuke. No, he would have gotten up and said, 'On second thought, I'll be okay.' That would have been better,

Tsume had waited long enough for this cruel joke to end, but it was apparently not a joke. Maybe he should have shoved a blade into Kennosuke's throat before he died, then they could have one last chat. No, Tsume was above such thoughts. That was was his best friend, even if it took four years for them both to realize it.

"Asashin-sama?" a young girl's voice begged for attention.

The Assassin looked up to see a girl whose face looked like it was shrinking into her head. Maybe that was exaggeration, but her features were very tiny compared to her rather large round cranium. Maybe they just made her head look larger than it was. She looked about 10 if Tsume had to guess. Her hands were clasped together, and the toes of one foot dug a little bit into the ground through her tabi.

"May I sit with you?" she bowed.

Tsume patted the ground next to himself.

"Could you tell me about Maruya-sama?" she sat next to Tsume, but on her knees instead of hanging her feet from the ledge.

"He was a good man, the bravest man I've ever seen."

"Was he smart?"

"Smart enough, but I think that... I think that he was going to change the world."

"The world's not ready."

"I know. Wait what?"

"If he was going to change the world, then he should be alive. Someone doesn't want that. World is not ready."

"You're smart for a kid," Tsume smiled at the girl.

"Domo arigato, sama. Why did he become an Asashin?"

"Because he was tired of oppression. He believed in the freedom of belief, and he wanted everyone to have it, even if they disagreed with him."

"What is an Asashin?"

Tsume extended his hidden blade for display, "We're fighters, a bit like samurai."

"But..." she rested her head against Tsume's arm.

"But we fight oppressors, like Tokugawa."

"So, you're the opposite of samurai."

"Hah!" Tsume laughed, "I'm not as poetic as a samurai should be. Kennosuke was actually a samurai before he became an Asashin."

"You mean Maruya-sama?"

"Hai, Maruya Kennosuke."

They sat on the ledge for a while, taking in the sun's warmth with their backs and feeling the cold with their fronts. Tsume noticed the gold tint of his breath was becoming white again. He looked down at the girl, "What's your name?"

"Koyumi."

"No family name?"

"None."

"Eta {Outcast}?"

"Hai." She didn't look like an eta. The robes she wore were mostly clean, except for a few patches of dirt on the lower half. Her hands were calloused from some kind of field work. Tsume felt a little better, knowing that other eta had managed to find a way out of public ostracism.

"Who adopted you?" Tsume's gaze moved out to the ocean.

"Endo-tono. What is your name, sama?"

"Tsume."

"Is that your family name?"

"No, I don't really have one, but I like to be called Washio."

"Ah, so how did Maruya-sama die?"

"I think there are better ways to ask that."

"Okay. What happened?"

Tsume paused himself to think. Across his mind flashed the empty eyes of Kennosuke, as did his blood. He remembered being rescued at Fuji, and studying together under Nariko. They had worked together on Sensei's cabin as well. All that time, they could have become friends, but Tsume insisted on belittling and antagonizing him. If he could do it again, he would. Maybe then this could be avoided, but maybe it could have been worse.

A pair of tears wetted the Assassin's eyes.

"Tsume-sama?"

His fingers dug into the dirt, "Yes?"

"How did he die?"

Tsume's back chilled, "Tokugawa."

Koyumi reached into her kimono, causing something to rattle. From it, she extracted a rosary, identical to the one Kennosuke had, but this one was unbroken, "Kirishitan need to be careful."

"You're not very careful here."

"No, we have a Bukkyōto {Buddhist} temple, a Shinto shrine, and a Kirishitan church. Endo does his best to keep everyone happy."

"He sounds like a wise man. Kennosuke would have loved to meet him."

"Washio!" Jack called from the foot of the hill.

"What is it?" Tsume answered.

"Come down here, the funeral is starting!"

"No thanks, I like it here more!" Tsume lied. He didn't want to face Kennosuke again. He didn't want to apologize for not saving him; not if it fell on deaf ears. Most importantly, he did not want the grim reminder of Kennosuke's -and by extension, his own- mortality.

"Arkwright says for you to get down here, because you're needed!"

"Washio-sama," Kayomi tugged at his sleeve, "You should go."

Tsume closed his eyes and laid back onto the grass, feet still dangling over the sea. He glanced over to Kayomi with one eye, "No, I like it he-yeee! Hello Jack."

The massive brown man cast an even larger shadow. From the angle he leaned over Tsume, his body had swallowed the sun. When that darkness reached down for Tsume's arm, he resisted, rolling over and picking himself up.

"Let's go," Jack commanded.

Tsume complied, traversing down the hill to the beach where the mourners waited. Kennosuke also waited. Hundreds of people gathered around the pyre in a semicircle, giving space only for the weeping ocean. Some of them prayed, and others merely stood in awe of the body. It would feel more appropriate if Tsume found more familiar faces among them.

Kennosuke lay upon a row of small logs, all of them split into halves to make a level bed. His bare feet protruded from the straw mat which blanketed him. He didn't look deceased any longer; he looked asleep. His lack of breathing indicated otherwise.

Endo waited at the forefront of this congregation near Garen and Sensei, a group with which Jack reunited.

"Aakuraito-sama," Endo extended a cloth to Arkwright, "It is customary that a family member cut from this cloth, but none from Maruya-sama's family are here, so we chose his Sensei."

Arkwright then drew his knife and grasped a corner of the fabric. He touched his blade to it and cut with a sawing motion. When the shred came free, Endo instructed, "Now place it in his hands.

"There is a time for everything," he now preached to the crowd, "A time for birth and a time for death. A time to kill and a time to heal. A time to destroy and a time to build. A time to weep and a time to laugh," he cast a quick glance at Tsume with that last one, "What does the worker gain from from his effort? We all see the burden our Lord has placed on us. He has made everything to be beautiful in some way. He also gives us opportunity for eternity, but we could not hope to understand what it all means from the beginning to the end."

Sensei lifted the sheet and unveiled Kennosuke in the process. Tsume could see that he looked peaceful, but certainly not asleep. The cloth was laid gently on his bare chest before he was covered again.

"The Kirishitan wish to thank all of you for coming today, especially those of you who do not share our beliefs. Your solidarity has kept this island safe for decades. We are told that it was this man's dream to visit us here. We did not know Maruya Kennosuke before, but now that we know of him, we can never forget him.

"I would ask my fellows to bow for prayer. Those who wish to join us are welcome."

Tsume witnessed nearly every person present, including one dressed as a Buddhist monk, sit down with their knees to the beach. He got down to accompany them.

"Our Omo {Lord}," Endo prayed, "We come to you today not in mourning, but in thanks. You have received your child yesterday. We are most blessed that he protected us that we may spread your word in good faith. We do not pray that you accept him into your realm, for we do not doubt his place there. We only ask that you accept him as a kami {god} that he may continue to guard us as we spread the knowledge of your virtue throughout the world. Aamen."

Everyone rose from the ground, with sand staining their knees. The heft of the cold mourning air was palpable. Dreary sunlight continued to shine its bright white onto everything, highlighting the dull green of the grass and brown of the sand on the knees of their white kimono.

Endo removed a pair of flint stones from his kimono and passed them to Sensei, "Would you please light the pyre?"

"Of course, Endo-sama," Sensei received the stones. He stood over Kennosuke with one pinched flat and another hovering over his wrist. He struck sparks from them to the straw that covered his student.

It didn't take many sparks before the tips of kindling took on a red glow. The embers consumed the straw until they were flames. They danced over him, quickly revealing the body that was meant to stay concealed.

"For it is dust we are, and dust we shall become again," Endo spoke aloud, "We conclude our services here. Thank you all for coming. Thank you all for staying. Regular use of this land will presume tomorrow."

Person by person, the mourners drifted back into their daily grind. They did not matter, because Kennosuke did not matter to them. Even the Buddhist monks and the Shinto priest returned to their own religious obligations. The fire gnawed their stranger's flesh away, revealing the muscles and bones his skin covered so well.

Tsume felt his gut wrench at the sight he was seeing. One of his two friends lay on the pyre, being swallowed by flames. He wanted to look away and wake up from this, but he couldn't. He had already tried to sleep the night before, to no effect. Jack promised him that he restlessness wouldn't last. He knew that. He remembered so clearly watching the life vanish from Kennosuke's eyes. It was something he had seen before, being an Assassin, but that never truly affected him when it was no one he knew. Only his parents' death had affected him so badly. That may have been worse, since he now had a pillar of support, but it certainly wasn't better. Eventually, he would sleep again.

When he looked back into the crowd, none but Endo and Tsume remained. Except for one other: a young samurai with unkempt hair. His hands were not near his sword, so Tsume did not feel threatened. He glanced over to Endo, who smiled.

"Asashin-sama," the samurai's voice was clear and strong, "I want to speak with you. Would you come to my home for food?"

Tsume looked into the samurai's eyes and then into the sand. He didn't want to see Kennosuke any more. Not like this. Not when a pillar of smoke rose from his body or the smell of his burning was reminiscent of cooked meat, which he did not want to smell for a long time. Nor did he want anyone to see the vulnerability in his eyes.

"I would appreciate for you to consider it," the samurai said.

"Certainly," Tsume nodded, "Where do you live?"

"It isn't far from here," the samurai pointed in the general vicinity of the Midnight Sun, "In fact, it's near the farmhouse."

"Actually, my Sensei is holding a dinner at the inn near the dock," Tsume looked up into the samurai's eyes, "I'm sure you would be welcome."

"I appreciate the offer, but gaijin make me uncomfortable."

"I understand that," Tsume forced a laugh, "We'll talk more later. When should I be there?"

"Noon. I will have something made around then."

"Mata ne {see you later}," Tsume bowed.

The samurai bowed in return and left for his home. Endo placed a wrinkled and fragile hand on Tsume's arm, "That man is Okada Izo."

"He a Kirishitan, too?"

"Hai, he is also a talented swordsman."

"Nippon does not have many talented swordsmen."

"Unskilled swords are still dangerous to the rest of us. We need more men like him."

"I used to think that the Kirishitan weren't the violent type."

"What choice do we have?"

Tsume arched a brow and glanced aside into Endo's perpetually sad eyes, "Hide. That's the only choice."

"That is why we have Ikitsuki."

**Around Noon**

Tsume sat on his knees before the table. Okada had provided a yellow donburi that smelled comforting. Not like meat, of course. More like the steamy scents of eggs and rice. The bowl itself looked to be made of clay instead of the porcelain to which the Assassin had grown accustomed.

"I apologize that my home isn't clean," Okada stated before he picked up his chopsticks.

He may not have been entirely right about that. There was nothing to get dirty. He owned a small kagizuru {fireplace} and a mat for sleeping, apart from the obvious table. The walls were lined with shelves that were almost completely barren. Surely a samurai could afford better. Still, it was nicer than eta.

"You have no reason to apologize," Tsume answered Okada's concern.

"Domo arigato, I wanted to talk to you about the Asashin."

Tsume plucked a piece of meat from the bowl. It looked to be chicken covered in goo. "I am definitely not the right person to talk to. You really should talk to my Sensei."

"Yes, but your Sensei is a-"

"Gaikoku-hito. I know," Tsume took a bite. The chicken was juicy and perhaps a bit raw, but the slime was definitely egg.

"You mean gaijin."

"I like gaikoku-hito more. It's more respectful."

"Yes, I suppose I understand that. I just never could get myself to accept them."

"That's fine. It took me a few years."

"But I need to know exactly who you are and what you fight for. You were the only Nippon-jin Asashin aside from Maruya-sama. How can I trust them?" Okada bit into his chicken.

"Kennosuke and I are hardly the only Nippon-jin Asashin. Have you ever heard of the lady ronin?"

"I have not."

"Kasai Asuka is her name. She is an Asashin up in Edo. Have you heard of Hayashi Nariko?"

"Geisha. Sometimes Endo gets letters from her."

"I was not expecting to hear that," Tsume took his second bite.

"We keep in touch."

"She is also Kennosuke's mother."

"That's astounding."

"How do you think we knew about Ikitsuki?"

"Hayashi-sama. It's actually pretty obvious now. So, are all Asashin women or Kirishitan or... Gaikoku-hito?"

"Of course not. I'm not Kirishitan, and last I checked I was neither gaikoku-hito nor female."

"I thought you were."

"Eta is the correct answer."

"Under normal law, I should not even have you here."

"But you don't care for normal law, or you wouldn't worship an illegal god."

"You have me there. So, the Asashin pulled you out of the eta."

"It's amazing, isn't it? You can't even tell by looking at us if we've been cast out of society or not. Kennosuke and I shared that."

"I wouldn't say that we're outcasts."

"Killed on the spot isn't any better."

"Don't forget the crucifixions."

"How could I forget them?" Tsume sighed to look for a more pleasant topic, "Have you ever killed a man?"

Okada flinched, "Erm, only two."

"Go on."

"Well, the first was in Tosa about a year ago. The second was here a few months ago."

"Here on Ikitsuki," Tsume's chopsticks pointed incredulously to the table.

"Hai."

Suddenly, Kennosuke's concept of the idyllic Christian paradise was challenged. Tsume swallowed the rice and said, "Let's start with Ikitsuki."

"Well normally, we had a samurai who would occasionally inspect the island to make sure there were no Kirishitan."

"Hence the church."

"Yes, well for a few centuries, we kept a good family of samurai who inspected us. They were not Kirishitan themselves, but they were open-minded enough to not try to kill us. Well, a few years ago, he died and his son had mon in his eyes."

"So, you killed him."

"I'm not finished. He was demanding bribes from the people of the town. Said if we didn't each pay him however much, he would report us to the bakufu {government}. That included the Bukkyoto {Buddhists} and the Shinto."

"How much was it?"

"It wasn't that much, honestly. Most of us could afford it."

"But not everyone could."

"No, not everyone. The community supported them, especially Endo, but his shipping business didn't cover everyone. Most of his personal income went to his orphanage. So, much of the remaining weight fell onto our blacksmith, who was more than happy to take care of everyone, but his prices went up."

"Why not get a new samurai?"

"Too much attention. We like it quiet here. Anyhow, iron prices went up and our income didn't go up with it. Any metalwork that needed to be done became more expensive, and some people found it cheaper to try to import from Nagasaki. However, too many shopkeepers started looking to open up on Ikitsuki and we don't like that kind of thing, so we had to reject their offers to build here. Unfortunately, this came around the same time as Mashuperi, and prices have exploded in Nagasaki since. The samurai effectively broke our economy."

"What did you do?"

"He arrested one of Endo's orphans."

"You didn't answer my question."

"I challenged him to a duel. He wasn't expecting an odachi {great sword}."

"And that is how you won your first duel."

"I've been practicing with it. It's a fantastic weapon. Once you understand the flow, the odachi can become the deadliest sword… Provided you have space."

"You've never used a jū {gun}."

"That I have not."

"So what about the other one?" Tsume asked before digging into the yolky rice.

"The other what?"

"Man you killed."

"Oh that. That one is ..." Okada scratched the back of his head, "Well, it was kind of a funny story."

Tsume nodded a sign for the young samurai to begin this funny story.

"Well, it was in Tosa. Have you been there?"

"No, but I know someone from there."

"Okay, well, I was in Tosa and I was practicing my sword swings when this man, he was a prisoner, came around the corner. See, I like to practice next to a building where I can get some shade. And the day before, we had captured a guy for stealing and put him in our jail. Well, he escaped because we were going to flay him, but he didn't see me around the corner and ran into my sword while I was practicing."

That story did not amuse Tsume, at least not in how it was told. The scars on his back ached from the whippings that formed them only a few short years ago. Samurai brutality didn't quite appeal to him either.

"Is something wrong?" Okada asked with a tinge of concern in his vile voice.

"I need to leave," Tsume stood, "Sensei wants me in Osaka soon."

"What about the Asashin?"

"You'll have to ask him later."


	17. Seek No Evil

**5 February 1856 in Osaka, Japan**

Tsume stared through the rising steam and across the powdered forest to his mission. The castle looked to be more the work of gods than men. The walls glowed white by the sun and snow. Gold arches and green eaves peeked out from the snow, exposing the mountain's artifices for their human makers. The trees themselves bowed before this mighty shadow of Tokugawa's trophy of victory over Toyotomi. He was not impressed by the size; he had climbed mighty Edo castle once before.

He was hoping that a soak in the hot spring could wash out his grief. That was a foolish thought. The Assassins had joined a tribe of monkeys in this bath. Tsume could not imagine much to kill a relaxing evening than a pack of thieving animals.

"Kozuki Sasuke was a historical ninja who is best known for his exploits among the Sanada Jūyushi {Sanada's Ten Heroes}," Joseph read off the parchment he held so precariously over the hot spring, "He was given the name 'Sarutobi {Monkey Jump}' for his supposedly supernatural climbing ability. Some say that he was orphaned and raised by a troop of monkeys."

"Does this matter?" Tsume sunk to his chin with hopes that the water's warmth would overcome his other senses. He would have chosen to relax without history lessons.

"Apparently, it does," Joseph rolled up his parchment and dropped it on his clothes folded on the ground, "Otherwise Arkwright wouldn't have sent it with us. He said that we need to know as much as possible if we want to find Tiago's treasure."

"What if we don't care?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Think about it," Tsume clarified, "How much trouble did we go through on Fuji for one of these pages?"

"We almost died," Azusa added from over Tsume's shoulder. She dropped her folded kimono to the ground, exposing the rest of her skin to the frigid air. As she lowered herself into the spring, water filled in the crevices between her bones and muscles. She beamed, "Oh, look at all the monkeys!"

"I forgot what we were saying," Joseph's eyes had lost all connection to the conversation to focus on her body, "But I love Japan."

Azusa finished submerging herself to the shoulders, "You were talking about the treasure."

"Yeah," Tsume continued, "I don't think that Lopes wanted this treasure to be found."

"You don't leave breadcrumbs if you don't want to be followed," Joseph posited.

"Tsume, Fuji didn't try to kill us. The Shinobi did."

"I'm not talking about that."

"But you are."

"It's not just- Joseph, what are the clues? The clues that Virginia gave us."

"Oh, erm," he reached to the pocket inside his jacket, "She says that she was able to pick out the words saru {monkey}, shiro {castle}, and hanran {rebel}."

Azusa nodded, "We know that Sasuke was one of us and he fought against Tokugawa in Osaka. So it makes sense that we should look here."

"How does it make sense?" Tsume shrugged.

"It's the best we have," she answered.

"That doesn't make sense."

"Tsume," Joseph included himself, "I don't think you get how this works. Perry got the first page before we even met. You got the second at Fuji so the Templars had nothing to work from. Virginia decoded that page, but the Templars intercepted her letter, so they still know what we know."

"And we can't let them get ahead of us," Azusa added.

"About that. What if they see us there? Tokugawa wouldn't appreciate the extra bodies in his summer home."

Joseph cupped his chin in his hand, "Yeah, we don't want to raise any unnecessary alarms."

"The only people in the castle are guards and cleaners, so we need a good cover," Azusa suggested.

"Do you have any ideas?" Tsume asked.

"I'm a gozen {lady}. I know how to tilt my head."

Joseph wordlessly moved his his gaze from the monkeys around him to Azusa's general direction.

"Yes, Joseph?"

"I was wondering how that's going to help us."

She switched her tongue to English, "Lord Shimazu is marrying his daughter to Tokugawa."

"And?"

"And he's the lord of Satsuma," her face curled like she wanted to raise an eyebrow, "Do you know how they do things in Satsuma?"

Both men answered with silence.

"You both live in Nagasaki. Surely you know more about Kyushu."

"Nagasaki is a Tokugawa-run city," Joseph returned his attention to the monkeys sharing their bath, "So we never got curious about the rest of the island."

Her hand covered her face from the sight of her ignorant comrades, "It doesn't matter. No one here knows lady Atsuko, so I can masquerade as her. I'm just inspecting the castle to see … To see it."

Tsume raised an eyebrow, "I don't think anyone will trust a noblewoman traveling alone."

Azusa's mouth curled into a most sinister grin with eyes upon Tsume, "Not without a bodyguard."

"Joseph, I believe she wants you to be her bodyguard."

"Tsume, no one will believe that lady Atsuko is traveling with a foreigner."

"Actually," Joseph countered, "Tsume needs to find it, because he has that sense."

"A lady doesn't travel alone," Azusa quipped.

"Who said you had to be Atsuko in the first place?"

"Lady Atsuko is the best cover," Azusa looked hurt, "I spent the last week planning this."

"You just made it up," Joseph glanced over to her, "I should know. I was there. In an onsen {spring} with monkeys. Just like this one. Tsume was there too."

"No, I really have been planning- … I don't even know why we're having this conversation? You clearly aren't going to use my plan. Tsume, what you have in mind?"

All human eyes fell on Tsume, "Don't give me that look. I say we find out if the Templars are still there first. Once we know that, we know how to get in and do what we need."

"And they know your face," Joseph reasoned in the scar.

"But we look suspicious if we don't have a good story."

Azusa added, "Like how you're a body guard protecting a noblewoman who intends to marry Tokugawa? One who happens to be a major Asashin target?"

"How much do we know about the treasure?" Tsume asked.

Joseph checked his paper again, "I've already told you."

"Then I definitely need to go in, because I'm the only one who can find it."

"And since we don't have any other information…" Azusa said.

Joseph crossed his arms, "Only one person can tell us for sure."

Tsume dropped his head back. "Sasuke," he and Azusa said in unison.

"Okay," Tsume sighed, "But we still don't know if the Templars are here."

Azusa asserted, "That's why we need a cover."

"Yes," Tsume clasped his hands, "So let's scout the area first for anyone suspicious who may be a Templar. Once we know what to avoid, Azusa -pardon, lady Atsuko- can keep them distracted while Joseph and I find the treasure."

"I know an easy way to scout."

Joseph leaned forward, "Do tell."

* * *

><p><strong>6 February 1856, in Osaka, Japan<strong>

Tsume had been in a castle only twice before. Neither time had he bothered to examine the interior. The room was a great cavern supported by brown beams. Elaborate murals adorned the paper doors, each depicting a different event in history. Naturally, Azusa seemed elated to be in such a place.

One which paused her in her tracks depicted a great castle city surrounded by a fleet of encroaching ships. Sailors stepped onto the beach with their spears held lowered to the ground. A solitary heroic figure stood in the midst of the chaos, issuing orders to the men from the ships. Behind him, another army of foot soldiers held their spears outward.

"Do you like that?" the guide asked over Tsume's shoulder.

"It looks like an epic," Azusa answered.

"That is Toyotomi-sama's conquest of Kankoku {Korea} over two hundred years ago. Tokugawa-sama wanted to keep all of Toyotomi-sama's accomplishments on display."

"Interesting, and the next one?" Azusa pointed to the hallway's middle door.

Samurai were trapped within the walls of a fortress, surrounded by foreign soldiers. The great figure stood here again, this time with his sword in hand, leading the samurai who defended from an encroaching invasion. Some poured oil from the ramparts, while others pushed down massive siege ladders, and yet more fought men atop the walls. It looked a desperate struggle for the samurai involved. Tsume could not help but to notice that all of the Japanese in this image had faces painted in great detail. The foreigners, however, did not have faces at all.

"That is from his second invasion," the guide explained, "Forces from Chuugoku assisted the Kankoku-jin in fighting Toyotomi-sama's forces, but they were easily repelled."

"And what is the last door?"

This final door was a more distant image. Two great fleets of ships clashed in the sea. One navy was so large as to encompass the majority of the door. They were not larger by the numbers of their ships, but also the sizes. They were also burning. Men fired arquebuses from both sides but great fires spurned only from the larger ships, quenched by the hungry sea.

"That is from the battle of Nankai, where your ancestor, Shimazu Yoshihiro, fought against the combined navies of Chuugoku and Kankoku. Unfortunately, he was not successful."

"He also was not my ancestor. That would be his brother Yoshihisa-sama."

The guide smiled faintly, "You are a credit to your clan, Atsuko-gozen."

"Shall we continue?" Azusa motioned down the hallway.

"Of course," the guide walked down the hallway, turning a corner and opening an outside door.

The Assassins stepped onto the balcony with him. The treetops and rooftops of Osaka were hidden under a sheet of snow painted gold by the sunset. Tsume looked out to them in all of their glory, but a speck of motion caught his attention.

"This is such a beautiful castle," Azusa remarked, "and the history of it is so rich."

Tsume pulled together his gift. He wanted to better observe what fluttered about down below. He felt a presence down there. It seemed friendly. That was all he could determine. It was likely Joseph. If that were true, it was a relief to be reminded that the Assassins' white still protected them amidst the snow.

"It is the pride of Osaka, I have worked here my entire lie and I never cease to be amazed by this place."

Something else begged to be noticed from the ground. His focus lowered to the wall. A singular spot was tugging at his mind from there. He could see that it was on the other side of the wall, but that was all he could see.

"I can certainly understand how."

Tsume snapped his senses back, "Excuse me, but I have a question for you."

The guide nodded, "Please ask."

"Did anything happen down there? Along the wall."

"Nothing of significance, I don't think. Except for the moat."

"The what?"

"It was a western invention. Essentially, a river was dug around the castle walls to make siege almost impossible, but it could not stop Tokugawa-sama. When the Toyotomi clan was ended, Tokugawa-sama had the moat filled."

Azusa chimed in, "I heard the famous Sarutobi Sasuke fought against Tokugawa here. Is that true?"

"Hai, he was among the ten heroes who fought for Sanada Yukimura, who defended Osaka. There were others, but I forget their names,"

Tsume looked out again, "What happened to him?"

The guide's face grew puzzled, "I do not know. Some say he died here. Others say he joined the Asashin. There are many tales, but they're all so different. Is there anything else you would need from me?"

"No," Azusa bowed to him, "But thank you, Tomichii. It has been a pleasure seeing the palace."

He seemed flustered to have received a bow from a woman of such great station, even if she was a farce. The guide returned her bow, "The honor is mine, Atsuko-hime."

The false noble gave a closed grin, and the guide left. With that, she sat on the balcony, "I wish I could stay here."

Tsume peeked a single eye to her, "Of course you do."

"Don't act like you wouldn't."

"Castles are nice, hai, but what would you do with one?"

The corners of her mouth curled up a bit, "Live in the library."

"Of course you would."

"What about you?"

"Sell it. Get rich. Then I'd do whatever I wanted."

"What do you want to do with all that money?"

"I would start with two girls at the same time."

"Seriously?" her glance was disbelieving.

"When is that ever not a serious answer?" Tsume smirked.

"Sit down. Have you found it?"

"Found what?" he hung his legs from the balcony.

"The thing we were supposed to find."

"There's something down on the wall where the moat used to be. I also saw Joseph monkeying around the city."

"And Templars?"

"Nashi {None}. They must have given up."

Azusa stretched herself a great yawn and dropped her back onto the floor, "Saiko {Great}. I need a rest."

"Yesterday's hot spring bath was pretty exhausting."

"You try training under Kasai-gozen. Every day before dawn, we run the perimeter of Edo. The winner gets to practice five hundred sword swings."

"You say that like it's some kind of a reward."

"Everyone else does a thousand. Then she makes us broker business deals in Edo under false identities."

"Why?"

"Something about income and stealth. Problem is that the businesses all take up so much time that we don't have time for our Asashin work."

"Or your books."

"Hai, or my books."

Tsume looked over at her. Azusa did not look like her usual bony self under the moonless dusk. Her features were softened and expanded by the torchlight. With her white kimono and her hair tied up and her superior diction, it was easy now to see that she was once an aristocrat.

"This reminds me of when I was growing up in Ise," a smile cracked at the corner of her lips, "I miss those days."

"You grew up in a castle?"

"Of course. The Ishikawa are daimyo {lords}. We were samurai blessed by a decision made by an old relative we never met."

"That reminds me of an idea I had."

"What is it?"

"You go back to your family. Don't tell them that you're an Asashin. Just tell them that you found a new friend and want your father to adopt him."

She scoffed a little, "It doesn't work that way."

"I'm sure it doesn't. I'm a burakumin {outcast}," he looked out over Osaka, where colorful lights were appearing long the eaves of every building, save one district where his kind resided, "Although, when Sensei took me in, he cleaned off my kegare {defilement}, gave me my daishō {swords}, and now everyone calls me samurai."

"Does it bother you?"

"Does what bother me?"

"Everyone knows how much you hate samurai."

"I hate what samurai are. They are still a necessary part of our society," Tsume scratched a nail into the wooden balcony, "I also hate our society."

Concern flooded Azusa's face.

"Would you go back?" Tsume asked her.

"I've thought about it, but no. I'm an Asashin now. We're devoted to fight against people like my father," she looked up to the stars waking in the sky, "All of that seems seem so far away now. It's been hard on us. We've lost another."

Kennosuke's last moments surged his mind. Only a month had passed, but the memories were as fresh as the moment he died. The funeral helped a bit, but it only served to remind him of death's permanence.

Despite his instincts begging him to console Azusa, Tsume's mind was wrapped around Kennosuke's memory. His mouth struggled to find a gentle word or her, so it resorted to his usual conversation pieces. He asked, "Who?"

She swallowed her hesitation, "Shimoda."

"Igarashi finally got his wish. He can be Yūdai now," he saw that she was not amused by that, "What happened?"

"He was caught stealing. He yelled something -I don't remember what- and started a riot. The samurai killed him and stopped the riot," she heaved a sigh, "And then there was Kennosuke."

"Could we stop talking now?"

Azusa ignored his request, "I know how you feel. I felt the same way about Fumito. He was someone special and he died. I blamed Rangiku, and she's gone too," her hand found his laying on the balcony, "Tsume, we've lost so many."

"What were you expecting?" Tsume pulled away, "We are Asashin. We kill people who don't want to die."

"I don't know. I thought I knew, but I don't," she wiped the tears down her eyes, smudging her white makeup and showing her darkened skin.

"You wanted to be like your heroes."

She silently nodded, hand still covering her mouth. Her face clenched to withhold more tears. She must have understood now the price of her heroism.

Tsume stood and offered a hand to raise her, "I know it's early, but we should get some sleep."

Azusa accepted his offer. Her eyes avoided making contact as she poised herself back into a noble stance. She managed to avoid rubbing her face any further and keep what remained of her disguise.

"Atsuko-hime," the guide from earlier appeared in the doorway, "Some men have come to see you."

Tsume's stomach dropped. Joseph would never be allowed in this castle, and there no other Assassins in Osaka. His first guess was that the Templars had come. If that were the case, then they would know that Atsuko was not meant to be here. Azusa was already looking to Tsume for a plan, eyes widened by fear.

"Atsuko-gozen is having some nervousness," he slid his hand up the back of her neck, guiding her face into his shoulder, "She is not presentable right now."

"They said it was urgent," the guide replied. Definitely Templars wanting to prove Atsuko's presence. Azusa could try, but she would never pass with her makeup betraying her ignobly tan skin.

"Tell them the answer is 'No.' She needs her rest. I'm just going to bring her to the bedroom."

"Hai, sama," the samurai bowed and left the Assassins to their plan.

Tsume pulled up Azusa's head. Worry still trickled from her eyes, revealing skin too dark for a proper lady.

"Azusa, we need a plan. Now."

Her eyes frenzied about, looking for some kind of scheme, "We have to stay here. They'll expect an escape."

"But they know we aren't supposed to be here."

"The servants' quarters. They're almost empty."

"Where are they?"

"Across the building."

"Lead the way."

She hastened along the path from where they had come. Their socks helped to keep their feet quiet against the wooden floor. Tsume recalled the months of training he underwent to keep his steps quiet at all times. He could hear mens' voices approach from the other end of the hallway.

Azusa checked over her shoulder before turning the corner. Her face did not become more distressed, so it seemed safe to assume that the Assassins hadn't been seen yet. Tsume followed her through the majestic corridors, keeping the Templars always just out of sight.

She arrived upon a wall in a plain white room that the guide had overlooked. Her hand pressed into a section of the wall framed by black boards. It caved a little and slid to the right, revealing the hallway it concealed.

They entered together into this dim corridor. The walls were white in here as well, but Tsume could only determine that around the torches which lit each corner. He could see the stars through the windows which lined the ceiling, but the moon hid himself tonight, so torchlight was all the Assassins would get.

Azusa stopped at a door along one of the walls. It was as nondescript as a door could be, so she slid it open with an eye cast to Tsume. He glanced inside. It was empty. A single short table sat in the corner with a mound of scrolls atop it. A few other scrolls hung from the walls with simple poems about tea and silk and the moon.

She pulled a sleeping mat from under the table and cast it to the center of the room, "You make the bed. I need to change."

Tsume laid out the mat across the floor. A quilt was sewn into the side, probably to keep the bed as a single piece. Within seconds, the bed was ready for sleeping.

"Is there another?" Tsume asked.

"Doesn't matter," Azusa stripped off the outer layer of her kimono, leaving on the lower layer, "We only need one."

Tightness grew between Tsume's legs. Azusa was rubbing her makeup into the white kimono she had just removed. Her face was barely visible behind the weight of every foggy breath. Maybe she wasn't the most attractive woman Tsume had ever seen, and sex seemed like an odd thing to have right now, but he didn't want to turn her down.

"Tsume," Azusa's eyes locked onto his as her intricately tied aristocratic hair fell into curled locks, "I just need someone to hold me right now. I don't want to wake up and hear that another one of us is dead and I don't want to die alone. Promise me we won't die alone."

He extended the hidden blade from his wrist and tried to retract the one above his knees, "We won't die tonight." She showed her own blade and nodded wordlessly.

Azusa spread out her noble kimono between her forearms, "Put your other weapons here." Tsume removed both of his swords and dropped them into the makeshift silken basket. Then he added his throwing knives as well as their ropes. Then he drew his revolver. "Keep that one," she added, "We may need it."

"You take it," Tsume offered.

"Thanks, but I already have my own," hastily she stashed Tsume's weapons under the table covered in scrolls and returned to the bed. She got down on the floor and slid under the quilt, "Join me."

Then he heard voices. Male voices. Accusatory voices. Nearing voices. He threw the cover from Azusa and dropped over her. He then grabbed the quilt and pulled it over them as a pair.

The voices were at their door, saying things Tsume could not understand, but he may have been able to pick out words like 'impostor' and 'Asashin.' The door pried open. Shadows of samurai obscured the torchlight. Tsume threw his arm forward, hand strategically placed to obscure his own face. He then yelled the first thing to come to mind, "Please don't tell my wife!"

The door then closed and the voices drifted away. Tsume released all of his weight onto Azusa. Together, their hearts beat so frantic that he could no longer tell which was his own. He raised himself up and locked his eyes directly into Azusa's through their clouds of breath. He could feel himself knocking on her door, ready to enter. He leaned in to kiss her, but her hand pushed his cheek away.

"Not tonight," she said with mourning heavy in her tone.

"Tell me you don't feel that."

Azusa looked down, not that she could see anything through their chests, "I feel it, but this is not the time."

He pushed himself off and fell to her side. She rolled over, facing the doorway. He pressed his chest against her back, where he still felt her heartbeat. He kept his hips away from her hips, so as not to make the situation any more awkward for her. Her loosened hair filled his face while his lower arm pressed under her belly. She lowered her body until she was effectively sitting on Tsume's lap.

He spoke up, "I thought you said-"

"I can still like it. Just don't try anything ... Do you think they'll come back?" Azusa worried.

"No."

"What if they do?"

"Then you have my gun."

"Tsume, what if the guns aren't enough?"

"Then we can fight them."

"What if we're asleep?"

"Do you always think about things like this?"

"Every night."

Tsume embraced her with his free arm and clasped his own fingers together, "They won't come back. Just think about something else. Anything else."

He could feel the pistol she had hidden under her kimono. It gave him a sense of peace that, even in her vulnerable state, Azusa managed to maintain enough composure to fight. The two laid in silence together for what felt like seconds or minutes or hours. It was impossible to tell, but it was somewhat pleasant.

"I was thinking about those paintings," Azusa broke the silence.

Tsume responded by nodding into her hair.

"That first one. It wasn't Toyotomi invading Kankoku."

"Then what was it?" Tsume feigned interest.

"It was Jingu-tennō invading Kankoku."

"I don't know who that is."

"First woman tennō {god-king}. She invaded Kankoku a long time ago using something called the tide jewels. It's said that she defeated an entire navy alone without killing a single man because of the jewels."

Tsume held his silence.

"The second one was Toyotomi's invasion."

"And the third?"

"I don't know. Toyotomi didn't use guns in his navy. He thought they would burn the ships."

Azusa continued talking, but Tsume was falling asleep.

* * *

><p><strong>7 February 1856, outside of Osaka Castle, Japan<strong>

Tsume and Joseph stopped at a part of the outer wall. Tsume's sense guided them to this corner, where the beacon of energy had been calling for them. Here was a scream amidst silence.

"What do you see?" Joseph asked.

Tsume brought back his regular senses, "A rock."

"That's good," Joseph ran a hand along the wall, "We have so many good choices."

"It's this one," Tsume touched a stone carved with three flowers which sprouted from five hanging leaves.

"Donated by Ishikawa Kazumasa," Joseph read the inscription under the crest, "I bet he's related to Azusa."

"Possibly," Tsume slid his fingers between the bricks' edges, "The map is behind this." He was able to make a grip under the façade. His other hand grabbed the opposite edge and he pulled. A single tile came loose, revealing more stone underneath. Tsume inspected the tile's reverse, hoping to see a map, but he was not rewarded so easily.

"Where is it?" Joseph asked.

"I don't know," Tsume answered.

"What do you mean, you don't know? Use your gift."

"I can't always do that."

"Why not?"

"Because of the headaches."

"Drink some tea."

"It's not that simple. I get nosebleeds if I use it too long."

"Wait," Joseph felt in the grooves around a rock near the one Tsume removed. He pulled out another tile, leaving a single brick between the two gaps. A third tile, between the two Tsume and Joseph pulled, fell to the ground, unhiding a cavity in the wall. The two Assassins exchanged glances and looked into the cavity.

Joseph reached inside. "Ah!" Something pulled him in to his shoulder.

Tsume grabbed his chest and threw him away from the hole, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, nothing actually got me. I just wanted to see how you'd react. Good instincts."

Tsume glared at the American for his ridiculous sense of humor, "Sorry, I'm still tense from last night."

"Not as much as she is. By the way," Joseph added, "There really is something in there."

Tsume redirected his attention to the gap they had just created, "Like what?"

"It felt like a box."

Fueled by curiosity, Tsume extended a hand into the hole. Surely enough, a wooden box-like structure awaited him inside. It was just narrow enough that he could wrap his fingertips around the edges.

He removed it from its prison. It was plain, probably made of bamboo. Inside was a pair of curious mechanisms with a small parchment. They looked strikingly similar to the Assassins' hidden blade, but had a single hook where the blade's point would be. Written on the parchment were the words 'jump like a monkey.'

Joseph claimed one of these devices and fit it onto his left arm, where he did not already wear his hidden blade. He extended the hook with a flick of the wrist, the same as a hidden blade. Then he pushed the curved part of the hook toward its base, revealing a sharpened blade underneath.

"I guess these are ours now," Joseph mused.

Tsume silently agreed as he turned over the parchment. It showed a map of the Fuji area. A small circle had been drawn in a forest north of the mountain. He inspected the map for some more information. The trees were bizarrely drawn. Some had only two branches held upward, not unlike a person, but not so similar to be confusing.

"I think I know where we need to go."

"What?" Joseph called from above.

Tsume looked and found Joseph halfway up the castle wall, gripping the spaces between the stones with his new hook.

"What in the hell are you doing?" Tsume reprimanded him.

"I wanted to see why they called him 'Monkey Jump.' I think I understand now."

* * *

><p><strong>10 February 1856, In Aokigahara forest, Japan<strong>

From time to time, frozen human corpses would peek from the white veil of death at the foot of a tree. Their bones were not picked by even the crows. No birds chirped. No foxes scurried. No monkeys called to one another in this winter silence. The only animals to be seen were the dead. The wind wailed in grief for their souls, interrupted only by the crunch of snow beneath Assassin feet.

Here the trees were often too close to allow man or horse to pass. The naked branches reached up to the heavens and begged for salvation from this damned land. Each tree's roots snaked within and around another's; binding their collective fates to the Earth.

"Machiko," Azusa repeated Joseph's words, "I think I know who she is. She's a geisha from the Sakura Okiya, right?"

"Yes, that's the one," Joseph hung from a branch by his new hook.

"That's so precious," she beamed, "a geisha and her American."

"I like to think that I'm bridging diplomatic relations between our countries," he pulled himself back up to the forest canopy, "You're doing the same thing with Garen."

"I would rather not talk about that."

Tsume checked over his shoulder for something he knew to be following him. As they had since coming to the forest, Azusa walked slowly by his side while Joseph scurried about the treetops. He hoped that their presence would be more reassuring. After all, Joseph was more nimble than any man in Japan, especially with his new hook. Meanwhile, Azusa was arguably as adept of a trickster as Tsume himself. Still, something unseen was scratching at the back of his mind.

"Tsume, I know you said you're okay, but I'm not sure that's true," Azusa said.

"I'm fine, thanks, but," Tsume sighed, "Do you get the feeling that we're being watched?"

"I've felt that way since Osaka castle."

"I swear, I'm hearing someone."

"What does it sound like?"

"Like a funeral."

"Probably just the breeze. If anyone else is here, I'll be the first to know," Joseph joined, "but everyone I've seen has been dead. Like that guy."

Joseph pointed to a bump in the snow next to Tsume. It was vaguely human-shaped, if curled into a ball. Tsume considered removing the snow to see if Joseph was correct about another person hidden here by the forest. He couldn't. He didn't need that fuel to his mind right now.

Azusa glanced up at him, "That's something Tsume would say."

"Tsume hasn't been Tsume since we came here, so I'm going to be Tsume for now. The sooner we can leave, the better," Joseph hopped down to to the ground for the first time since leaving their horses outside these forsaken woods, "I think we've found the place."

Tsume circumvented the tree and saw the clearing. It sloped into the frozen bank of lake Saiko. The trees here stood higher than the others, their clawed limbs touching the sky above to bend the ears of the unforgiving gods. Here the wind's frosted lament stung his face unrestrained by the trees.

Joseph rubbed his hands against a rather tall trunk, "We are supposed to find a tree with a sword stuck in it. At least, that's what I think it says. The maps says it's in this clearing."

"But the map is two hundred years old," Tsume added "I know trees can be really old, but shouldn't it be different by now?"

"That's what I don't understand. The map doesn't look right at all. I'm not sure if these are supposed to be trees or people or something else. It's all twisted."

"I don't see any swords in the trunks," Azusa chimed in, "Tsume, could you use your gift?"

He nodded, pulling his senses together into one. An energy emanated from the hook blade that once belonged to Sasuke. A miserable gust roared, stumbling him forward.

Joseph caught him, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just the wind."

"What wind?"

"Don't worry about me," Tsume straightened up. Shadowy humanoid figures stood around them all. They did not have any kind of malicious feeling about them. Tsume shut off his gift and reached for a knife, but nothing waited for them in this forest.

"Tsume," Azusa cautioned.

"It's fine. I'm fine," Tsume probably reassured them.

Tsume used his gift again, noticing a distinct lack of shadows. Following the hook's energy, his hand pointed up to the treetops until he found a match. There someone waited for them with a branch through his belly. This man had kept his vigil even in death, and now he would be rewarded. Luckily for him, he never fell, else he would be dead again. "There, Sasuke is up there."

"Alright, Tsume," Joseph extended his own hook, "Let's go get it."

"No," Tsume's eyes fixed on the foreigner's blade. Joseph was taking his place. He said so himself.

"What do you mean 'No'?"

"You should not have come here," Tsume glanced up the tree where Sasuke hung, "You should not have returned!"

"I don't think I've ever been here before. I'm sure I would remember, because this place is terrible."

"You come to our land. You soil our blood. You make us impure."

"What are you saying?"

"I will purge the unclean. You are not the first."

"Yamero! {Stop!}" Azusa shouted.

Tsume felt a distinct violation when his regular senses returned to him, like ice plunged into his body. Every breath he gasped sawed it deeper into his core. He looked down. His hands were clamped around something that trickled red over his hands. He dropped to the forest floor as his grip released the handle of his knife.

The other Assassins gathered over him, muttering something about a physician and finishing their mission. Tsume paid them no mind. His eyes wandered to the treetops, where the branches shielded him from the realm of the gods. The wind howled in laughter. Across the woods, he spotted the white slopes of Fuji, whose shadow was growing over everything; clouding it all black.


	18. Look Who's Coming to Visit

**22 September 2012 at the Abstergo facility in Rome, Italy**

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!" I pulled myself from the Animus again, stumbling onto the floor. Standing was hard on account of the icicle that had just kicked me in the gut.

"Very interesting, Mr Marshall," Vidic hovered over me.

My heart pounded like a rubber mallet bouncing in my chest. One finger accused the animus, "I just fucking died in there."

"No, your ancestor hasn't died yet. Well, he's dead now, but that wasn't how he died. No, your last memories with him will be the conception of your next ancestor."

"Getting laid is nice and all, but I need to get to a doctor who isn't you," I clenched my gut.

"Get what treated?"

"I just got stabbed. You were there."

The good doctor lowered himself to me and put a finger on my stomach, "No, Mr Marshall, you're fine. You are simply experiencing your ancestor's trauma as if it were your own. It's a common enough side effect."

I let go of the wound- or what I thought was a wound. My abs looked fine, if a little flat and nonexistent, but the pain was going nowhere fast. It didn't help that Vidic sure as shit wasn't going to help me.

* * *

><p><strong>15 February 1856, at the Lexington Inn, Nagasaki, Japan<strong>

Violet sat next to Tsume's rest bed, scratching something onto her papers. Jade eyes scoured over them silently, begging for the code to reveal its secrets. Her wide pink lips bit onto the tip of a pen in the same way some scholars bit their brushes when they wanted to concentrate. Frustration twisted her long face, wrinkling the forehead, but never bending the straightness of her nose. Occasionally, she would need to sweep her distracting sandy curls from her eyes . She was not a beautiful woman, Miss Silva.

"It's hard to heal when you're sitting over me like that," Tsume broke the silence.

"You caught me," she didn't even look away from her work.

"Caught you in what?"

"I don't want you to heal. I don't want you to die either. I figured that I could just stay right here and you would magically keep bleeding just enough to stay in bed."

"Because you have so much to gain from me in bed?"

"No, but this is the only room where no one is going to be having sex. Usually makes it easier to think when no one is pretending to enjoy themselves."

"I promise not to pretend. This is exactly as fun as it looks," his head fell back into the pillow, "Constant celebration."

"Lovely," Violet set her book on the table beside the bed, "By the way, I have been wondering about something."

"Wondering about what?"

"Are you angry at Joseph Kent?"

"No..." Tsume raised an apprehensive eyebrow.

"Ishikawa Azusa?"

"What about her?"

"Are you angry at her?" her questions were making less and less sense.

"Why?"

"I need to know," her eyes locked on his.

"I must have hit my head too hard, because don't remember why you're asking... any of this."

"It wasn't your head. Aim lower."

Tsume's hand covered his groin.

"Your stomach. You stabbed your stomach. It's a wonder you're alive."

"Arigato. I had not noticed," Tsume lied. He honestly believed that he had fallen from a tree as Joseph had told it. Granted, that never explained how he got the wound on his front without any bruises.

"Yes, but no regular miracle, like a sunrise or the birth of a child. This was closer to an unlikely event... well... fifty percent chance, so it wasn't that unlikely."

Tsume stared at her, trying to process the thoughts leaving her mouth.

"As I understand," she continued, "You are fortunate to be alive, but I did want to talk about miracles. Do you know anything about possession?"

"It means I own something that you don't."

"Not quite what I meant," Violet's face strained.

"Then what did you mean?"

"I didn't want to use this word, but... demonic possession."

Tsume recalled the talks with Kennosuke and Joseph of the Christian religion, "I've heard of it."

"You started shouting something in the forest about impure blood, then you stabbed yourself. That is everything I know. I need you to tell me what happened."

"I didn't even know that much," Tsume tried to sweep the dust off those memories. He did recall a sharp pain in his gut and experiencing incredibly vague dreams until he woke a few hours ago. Nothing came up about impurity or the like. "I do remember something evil in the forest," the thought pulsed a chill in his spine.

Violet began scribbling something on her paper, "How do you know it was evil?"

"It was hate. That was all. It felt like hate. I think it said something to me about getting out of the forest."

"They said that you said that they never should have come."

The image became clearer, "I used a sense of mine to find something in the trees. I don't know how much of this I'm allowed to tell you."

"You just mentioned your sense and I already know what it is."

Tsume felt some relief from her clarification, "I don't know anything else. I felt something evil, and then I woke up here maybe a few hours ago."

"Have you ever felt it before?"

"Once, in Mt Fuji," Tsume recalled the artificial bamboo forest and the perfectly smooth stone he had seen inside the mountain.

Violet's eyes became more attentive, "I have heard of this. Care to tell me more?"

"Yes. We found a ... something there."

"Ms Ishikawa mentioned that you were the one who found the entrance. The way she described it, it was similar to how you found the box in Osaka castle."

"How much of this do you already know?" he asked.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out. How much do you already know?" she bit her pen, "It seems like every answer gives me a dozen more questions."

"Excuse me, but what exactly are you looking for?"

"Treasure."

"Treasure... Oh, Lopes."

"Yes, I have a feeling that your ability is somehow tied to all of this. I just wish we had more people to ask about it."

"There may be one more."

"Who?"

"But you need to make a promise first."

"What is it?"

"You need to promise to bring him to Nagasaki."

"Your brother has it?"

Tsume was surprised by the sheer extent of Violet's knowledge, "I don't like being separated from him."

"Mrs Kasai said he needs to stay in Edo, but I have an idea," she grinned, "I can maybe talk her into letting him visit Nagasaki or ..."

Tsume leaned up to show interest, but the jabbing stomach pain pulled him back down.

Violet continued, "I could bring you news about your brother."

"I could just send him a letter."

"In exchange, I get to ask you any question and you must answer with the utmost honesty."

"That is not much of an exchange."

"Then what do you have to lose?"

* * *

><p><strong>3 July 1856, in Nagasaki, Japan<strong>

"I want to thank you," Endo said.

"It was my pleasure," Tsume smiled, "What did I do?"

"Everything, child. You have done such a great service to us when we have nothing to give you."

The old priest was always careful with his words when he was within Nagasaki's city limits. After everything Tsume had seen the Christians put through, he could not blame Endo a bit for caution. While a military uprising would be better, the Christian rebellions of centuries past had never ended in their favor. Endo would need a very special kind of delusion to attempt an uprising. The best they could do is survive while the Assassins protect them.

"I'm certain you have plenty to give. It's just nothing I don't already have."

"How many families on the island want their daughter to marry a strong handsome man such as yourself?"

"I don't know. Marriage is a bit risky right now. Asashin are not known for their longevity... or their parenting skills," thoughts of Sensei and Garen came to mind.

"But you are known for your courage."

"I like to think of myself as pragmatic."

"A pragmatic man would not have tried to protect us as you did in Edo."

"You're giving me too much credit."

"On the day you decide that protecting us is too dangerous, you will flee our island and forsake your vows... On that day, I shall believe that you are pragmatic. Until then, I find your kind to be quite honorable."

"Yet you won't let your kind join us."

"I have my reasons," Endo gazed up to a trio of pigeons sitting on a low eave, "Look at the birds."

Their bodies were a dusty brown flanked with dull blue wings. Such features failed to distinguish the birds from other

"I can't say I've ever cared for the flying rats. I could say that, but I don't want to lie to you."

"I find them to be quite beautiful."

"I'm sure you do."

"I'm also quite fond of tanchōzuru {cranes}."

"I'm sure you are."

"Do you know why?" Endo turned to Tsume.

"I don't."

"They are known for their loyalty and their longevity."

"So, they remind you of you. Endō, don't get arrogant on me."

"No, no. I raised one for around fifty years. Beautiful bird she was."

"Not the usual thousand years," Tsume raised an eyebrow, amused by his own sense of humor.

"I'm not that old, mind you, but she was fully grown when we met. I was a child of about ten years."

"So you were sixty when... What happened?"

"When her body died."

"I hate to ask, but could you repeat that?"

"She is no longer of this Earth, but I hold dear everything she taught me about patience and loyalty."

"Do you think she was a thousand years old?"

"Possibly. It it my hope that I can keep her lessons alive for another ... let us say nine hundred and eighty five years."

Tsume calculated those numbers, "So you're seventy five."

"I'm young for my age."

The buildings on the street ended where the hills of the Urakami valley became evident. Its grass was as green as jade under the summer sun. Tsume could even see the fish under the surface of the Urakami river. It was a stark contrast to the Edo river's eternal cloudiness.

Along the bank sat three men deep in conversation. One man, wearing a very distinct blue American jacket spoke with moving hands and cast stones into the river. The other two had the kimono of samurai

"I have a suspicion that those are the men we have come to see," Endo pointed to the trio.

Tsume was unwilling to approach strangers while guarding a man as important as Endō. The possibility always existed that they could be dangerous, and this was not the time to take risks. He pulled his senses together. The samurai each gave off the kind of energy that identified them as his targets, so the old man was right. However, the man in the American jacket exuded a familiar energy that filled Tsume with a kind of confidence.

His sense broke apart as he led Endō closer to the men. One of the samurai peeked over his shoulder, revealing a familiar pointed beard. He tapped on the American's shoulder and pointed to the duo. Joseph was the American. Tsume was embarrassed that he had not noticed the short black hair which he knew to belong to only one man.

Joseph was a welcome sight indeed.

"You remember Tsume, right?" Joseph asked his bearded friend as he gestured toward the junior Assassin.

Tsume barely recognized the bearded samurai.

"I do remember him," the samurai nodded to Tsume, "But I do not recognize his name."

"And Tsume, you remember Shōzan, I presume," Joseph now motioned to his friend.

Tsume bowed, "I apologize, but I do not."

"We met him on the docks when we watched the daimyo sailing into Edo. Remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," Tsume lied, "I'm actually surprised to see the both of you here. Endō and I came to see someone else."

"That would most likely be myself," the other samurai stood and bowed, "Shōin is my name."

This man did not have the cordial eyes of his colleague. His eyes locked directly to Tsume's. He was obviously seeking something, but it was difficult to tell exactly what.

The Assassin bowed in return, "Washio Tsume. What's your chosen name?"

"Shōin is my chosen name."

Tsume's brows perked. Never before had a samurai introduced himself without grandstanding his family name.

"Then what is your family name, Shōin-san?"

"Yoshida, but I prefer Shōin. My sensei and I are visiting Nagasaki to learn the Dutch studies at Dejima, but I want to learn about the Kirishitan first."

"Oh, I'm no Kirishitan, but Endō-sama and Joseph-san are."

"Joseph?" Shōzan asked.

"That's me. Joseph is my middle name, and Tsume-san likes to call me that instead of Clayton ... Maxwell," Joseph adeptly covered himself.

"Are you the man we came to see?" Shōin bowed again.

"I am," the old man bowed to the two samurai, "What interest have you in the foreign religion?"

"Your faith is one that has been blessed by the native spirit of Nippon without the tainted touch of the Kirishitan gaijin."

"Stop. Stop. Stop," Tsume interrupted, "What kind of blessing gets a man killed in the port?" his voice was raising, "What kind of blessing makes people hide in fear?"

Shōin maintained a calm demeanor despite the outcast's rage, "The persecution is a tragedy, no doubt, and I have much to learn. As Maxwell-san has described his faith and church, they are very different from what little I have seen here. Nagasaki seems the ideal place for me to study."

"Teaching you would be an honor, Shōin-san. Tomorrow, we should meet at Katsumi's tea shop and discuss everything there."

"Exercise caution with your words around him," Shōzan added, stroking his beard, "Too often I try to teach him something about science or philosophy and I suddenly cannot find the time to eat between his questions."

Tsume crossed his arms, "You eat anyway and make him wait, obviously."

"You do not know much about Zen."

"I am curious about this one," Yoshida added, approaching Tsume, "He does not sound like he comes from Nagasaki."

Tsume straightened up, fixing his eyes to Yoshida's, "Edo. Rough neighborhood."

"Very," Yoshida's eyes studied Tsume up and down, "You are not a Kirishitan, yet you traveled from Edo to be the bodyguard of an old priest."

"Hai."

Yoshida visibly contemplated for a moment, "Endo-sama must truly be someone special. You, however, I still know nothing about. I would like to study you in more depth."

"I think you might want to ask Endo-sama first."

"Of course," Yoshida turned to Endo, "Would you please be so gracious as to teach me about the ways of your faith?"

The old man smiled, "It would be my honor."

* * *

><p><strong>8 July 1856, on Ikitsuki Island, Japan<strong>

A bell chimed Tsume awake. He snapped up, ready for his dawn exercises. No light came from the glorified slit that was Tsume's window. The entire room was as black as a Templar's heart. Raindrops were thumping loudly against the roof, so that was unsurprising. What Tsume found surprising was the lack of Sensei yelling at him to start running a few miles. That could only mean an intruder had slipped in.

He paused in silence. According to Takechi, noise was a stroke of paint in the dark. His heart thudded in his chest, hopefully only enough to wake hi and not enough to alert any intruders. Tsume pulled together his senses and most certainly felt a hostile energy in the room.

It was hazy, as he expected everything to be immediately after waking, but it was most certainly dangerous. The presence seemed to stand perfectly still, possibly grasping for a weapon.

Tsume reached for the ground by his bed, where he kept his weapons. He felt the curve of the hook blade he'd acquired a few months prior and still had yet to use in combat. It did not seem loud enough for the job Tsume needed. His hand continued to search the weapons for the smooth iron barrel or the lacquered wood handle of his revolver. Meanwhile this invader clearly heard the sounds of these items shuffling.

He felt the cool metal and smiled. Soon, the gunshot would kill this intruder and alert everyone to the certainly more numerous intruders. Unless they were all dead. He snatched the gun's barrel, cocked the hammer, and pulled the trigger.

It clicked to rotate the drum toward a live bullet. He pulled the trigger again, but did not bang. Tsume's heart stopped time in the room. He must have forgotten to load the thing when he went to bed. Garen had been drilling the importance of keeping five loaded rounds at all times. Tsume, pulled again in hopes that he may have missed a bullet, but was only rewarded with more clicking.

With the intruder almost upon him, Tsume leapt to his feet and crashed the pistol's butt down on the man's head. Ineffectual screaming did not stop Tsume from striking him again. Warm blood spattered onto his hand, and the intruder fell.

Tsume was most certainly awake now. He grabbed a match by his bed and sparked it against the wall. The dead man wore the distinctive black robes of the Shinobi. The Templars were not meant to know of Ikitsuki; not after what they did to the Kirishitan in Edo.

"Why didn't you shoot him?" Garen appeared in the open doorway, his face illuminated by the light of his fish oil lamp.

"Because this had to happen the one night I forgot to load my gun," Tsume answered, "I didn't hear your gun go off."

"Because I used my sword. We can't all see in the dark, you know," Garen raised a bloody saber to the firelight, "You'll want to get loaded quick. Unless everyone is taking the quiet approach, we got trouble."

Tsume nodded.

"I'm going to check on everyone else, then we check the town."

Tsume poured his gunpowder into five of the six chambers, just in case he accidentally-

_Bang!_

If killing a man had not startled him enough, that gunshot certainly did. Garen lowered his pistol from the sky and blew the smoke from the barrel, like a candle he needed to put out. This was his way of attracting attention, however unnecessary it may have been.

"Garen, I tell you every time," Joseph stepped out of his room, "I don't appreciate waking like that. You can get me up without scaring the Jesus out of me," he stopped, "It's still really dark."

"Yes it is, Joey."

"That means we're under attack."

"Yes it does."

Joseph sighed, "Urgent?"

"Probably."

He walked back toward his room, "I'll get my gun."

"Too wet," Garen said a bit louder.

"Just get your axe," Tsume added.

Joseph yelled from inside his room, "Yep."

"What happened?" Takechi arrived on the scene.

"Somehow, a dead man found his way into my room," Tsume answered, "Garen's too."

"I was hoping to be the only one. The whole village is in danger. Josefu!"

"You called?" Joseph emerged from his room partially dressed with a lamp in his right hand and tomahawk in his left.

"You ring the gong in the church. Garen, get your rifle and take to the rooftops. Find a boat that looks suspicious. If anyone goes to the docks, shoot them."

"Don't overestimate my gun. I can't see a damn thing beyond my lantern and, unless this rain clears soon, I can't keep her out in the open for too long."

"Then you will search the beach. Where is Izō?"

"I'm more worried about Papá," Garen said, "He's still in Nagasaki."

"That man's stubbornness will keep him alive forever," Takechi got nearer to Garen, puffing his chest and snarling with the fire of Yomi in his eyes, "But if you ever draw attention to us like that again, I will have you fight them unarmed."

Garen snickered, "Sorry I already got the warning out. They know we saw them and they know what we can do. Right now, they're more scared of us than we are of them, 'cept for maybe yourself," he pulled his gun's hammer, "I like them scared. Besides, you just told Joseph to ring the damn gong."

As ineffective as Takechi's threats always were, Tsume found himself suddenly glad that his own gun had not been loaded earlier.

"Comb. The. Beach," Takechi pointed to the shore.

Garen never wiped off his smirk, but still nodded and followed his instructions.

"Tsume, where is Izō?"

"I haven't seen him."

"You go to his house. I will check on Endō."

"Hai, Takechi-sensei," Tsume bowed and left the building for Izō's home.

He joined his senses again. While he had memorized the path to Izō's home, he still could not be careful enough with death around every corner of an Assassin's life. Tsume found a comfort knowing that, even when his eyes were useless, he could always see.

As he walked the dirt road, the rain's chill brushed on his arms and face, but only lightly. Tsume figured it would have been worse without his gift. Izō's home was just ahead.

His door burst open, a shadowy figure running out and onto the road. Tsume prepared his gun, and the figure fell to the ground. In retrospect, to say that the figure had fallen was an inaccurate retelling of what happened. It was more correctly thrown.

Part of Tsume's mind immediately said that Izō had just killed a Shinobi, but the other half was not so easily satisfied. In fact, it worried. Izō could have been the one dead in the road. His heart pounded as the thought grew in his head.

He readied his hidden blade anyway. As badly as he did not want to disgrace Kennosuke's memory by losing another Kirishitan, he also had no desire to get caught in a Templar trap. If this were Izō, then the Shinobi knew where to find the Assassins. That would mean that the combined presence of Kirishitan and Assassins had drawn too much attention. Then the blame would fall squarely on the Assassins and Tsume.

Nearing the corpse, the fear of Izō's death swallowed Tsume's initial confidence in his survival. Tsume leaned over the body, illuminating it by his lantern. It was dressed all in Shinobi black.

"Who's there?" Okada's voice called out. He stood in his doorway, face lit through the rain by a paper lantern.

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you," Tsume stood free from the threat of Izō's death.

"That must be a Shinobi."

"I prefer to say that he was."

"I figured the Templars could do better," Izō pulled his sword from the Shinobi's body.

"People will always find a way to surprise you, but we should be going. The island may be under attack."

"Endo..." Izō looked into the village.

"Takechi-sensei is checking hi-"

"Endo-sama!" Izō dashed toward the town, probably to the priest's house beside the church. Not wanting to risk another shinobi attack, Tsume followed. As Izō navigated the streets, Tsume jumped upon a barrel and scrambled onto a roof. The rain would make this decision more dangerous than usual. He raced Izō across the village while ensuring that no Shinobi could strike from above.

He pulled together his gift, and scanned as much of the island as he could while running. A few menacing flecks of energy appeared in the village and disappeared as they exited Tsume's range. Something else pulled him forward. It was the same pulling energy he would feel for any goal, but with a tinge of dread.

Tsume jumped over an alley, but slipped when he landed. His arms flailed to grab something while his weight pulled him off the ledge. He extended his hook to catch the

He was getting closer to the church faster than Izō could navigate the streets. The houses had been built so closely together, Izō could only go around entire blocks.

As Izō turned a corner, Tsume spotted an enemy aura on the street below and stopped. At no point soon could Izō see his enemy. Tsume leapt down upon the Shinobi, killing him by weight.

The friendly aura of Izō continued its approach unharmed, so Tsume scaled the building before him and continued running to the church.

When he finally reached Endo's home on the edge of town, Tsume dropped to the ground. The home itself was silent. The only thing he could hear was the heart thundering in his chest. The door looked inintruded, but the lesson of the night was that a closed door is not a mark of safety.

Takechi was nowhere to be seen and Izō had not yet caught up. Tsume worried about his teacher. He'd never seen the man in action, but a Master Assassin could not possibly be brought down by the Shinobi. Even if they set an ambush, he would expect it and not get cut down into a bloody mess. Even if they dropped from the sky, he could avoid it and not get crushed under their weight. Even if they ... Tsume felt the need to stop thinking about those grotesque images.

He pressed his finger onto the pistol's trigger and slid the door open. A faint face flashed and pulled the gun into the dark room. It fired before getting thrown into a wall. In the flash, Tsume pieced together the face as belonging to Takechi. He had never been so relieved to be disarmed.

"Sensei," Tsume threw up his hands, thankful he had not been pinned to the ground as Garen would have done.

"Tsume," Takechi dropped his combat stance, "Where is Izō?"

"He's still catching up. Where is Endo?"

"He and Kahori are hiding right now."

"Good," Tsume brushed his sweaty brow, "Everyone is safe."

"Safe? The Shinobi know where we are. We can't stay here. Kento never even rang the gong. I'm going to Nagasaki to talk with Ākuraito. Do you know anyone who may have given us away?"

Tsume ran the possibilities through his head, and only one name came to his lips, "Yoshida."


End file.
